The Big Move (Part 1)

choose wisely: calling over comfort

The first question people ask when we tell them we are moving next month is “where?” The second question, immediately afterward, is “why?!”

On paper, it probably doesn’t make as much sense. At least not to most of the world. We aren’t necessarily moving somewhere “cooler” or more “instagram-worthy,” by any means. But it makes perfect sense to us.

Not just because it checks off all the boxes on the extensive list near the front of my journal from almost four years ago, titled “What We’d Love for Our Kids” - but because it feels like a clear and definite calling for our family.

Truth be told, it would be FAR easier for us if we didn’t move. It would be much more comfortable to stay where we are. So why the move, then? Because calling comes way before comfort for us.

I want to share this adventure with you because I hope that it will be a journey that will inspire you to courageously run toward your callings too. This story starts with a scary prayer. I’ve prayed for a lot of things in my life but the scariest (and most exciting) ones are when I’m in a place of absolute surrender. When I’m over trying to control things or make them work according to my plan and instead open to WHATEVER He has for me.

I prayed a “I surrender everything, my whole life, to Your will” prayer just months before my 25 year old husband was unexpectedly diagnosed with cancer.

I prayed a “now that I’ve really messed it up, I dare you to do something with my mess” prayer just moments before Jesus’ love ravished my heart and changed my life forever.

I’ve prayed an “I want my baby girl to live, but truly only if it will bring You glory” prayer next to my daughter’s NICU bed as a machine breathed in for her weakened lungs.

Just over four years ago, I’d heard a whisper after just such a prayer.

It felt like an omen almost. But, not a scary one. More like a gracious heads-up that the plans barreling down the track were not what I had in mind.

“You aren’t going to raise your children here.”

And, a loving reminder…

“No matter what… I’ll be with you.”

I was looking out over the Lake of my childhood, with incredible PNW mountains just in the distance. Raising my 2 (soon to be 3) children with my second husband in my hometown, just 45 min north of Seattle. Life was great! It was FULL!

My growing belly housed our third daughter. I was a half decade out from my greatest trauma. Jay and I’s marriage was solid. My brother lived just down the street, we had a great house, in a safe neighborhood, a solid church family, incredible friends, and were literally 10-15 minutes from 20+ family members.

“Not here… Really, God?” I’d questioned Him then, wondering. I couldn’t imagine anywhere better.

Jay and I had picked our little town out of HUNDREDS of other towns and cities - really, every other one - in the United States. We both worked from home and had the freedom to choose and had decided we wanted to raise our kids around our families. We wanted them to be in a small-ish town but close to Seattle and the Farmer’s Markets. We wanted them to grow up playing sports for the same leagues that I had. Watching and cheering for the same teams my husband and I had growing up.

We had a great plan, really. But, as seems to be a pattern in my life, my plans are often short-sighted.

It took me a little while to share the whisper I’d heard with my husband. But, once I did, he balked. “No way! I love it here! We aren’t moving!” He’d said. He wasn’t mad. Just confused. And stubbornly sure.

“I don’t want to move either…” I’d agreed, shrugging my shoulders.

“I just feel like we are going to… Like we are supposed to. Not now… but eventually. He said we aren’t going to raise our babies here.” I shrugged again.

He’d scoffed. And I let it go. There’d have to be some sort of catastrophic shift for me to want to move or want a change and I couldn’t picture anything that would change the way I viewed our awesome little corner of the world. I didn’t know what that whisper had meant, even questioned if it was really God, and figured right then wasn’t the time to do anything, anyway. It didn’t feel urgent - more like a heads up. That was that. Time to move on - and focus on getting things ready for our Christmas baby.

That was December 2019.

Our little girl, Taytum Grace, was born 5 days before Jesus’s birthday (I know Christmas isn’t an exact date, just go with me) and it was such a precious time as we became a family of 5. Only problem was the sweet slow newborn days didn’t last long. My big girls caught a cold and even though we tried our best to keep them away - Baby Tay caught that same cold. By January 1st, at ten days old, that cold proved to be something very dangerous for a newborn - RSV - a nasty respiratory virus for newborns to two year olds and just a runny nose usually for bigger kids and adults.

That’s a whole other story, but all you need to know now is that we almost didn’t walk out of that hospital with our baby girl.

When she did finally successfully get off the ventilator and the feeding tubes and the oxygen, 15 days after her admittance, we cautiously brought her home. We were told to stay home and let those lungs continue to heal. (We “quarantined” before quarantining was cool. #trendsetters ;))

Just as we started to emerge from our “keep baby safe” hibernation… Covid hit the Seattle scene - and honestly, everything spiraled from there.

Talk about a catastrophic shift…

Many things changed. 2020-2021 brought an increase of housing demand in our area, an overcrowding of our systems, details of what they taught in local schools out in the open, increased drug and homeless enablements in our city, mass decline in our police, emergency and healthcare departments. A noticeable blackness and heavy cloud felt like ash settling on our greater community. In the course of a couple of years, I felt everything changed.

Those years brought change at home too. God had gifted us with another sweet baby. Our fourth child, our first son, Cayson James, was born at home in January 2022 and it felt like new dawn breaking.

Going right along with the pattern of change… We’d also grown with people who still prioritized growth in the midst of a pandemic. Jay’d switched gears and got a job at our church, I launched a new blog and our family of six eventually found a beautiful new rhythm.

Even with all the transitions, I almost forgot about the whispered knowing.

Until, quite suddenly, the desire to live here, suddenly, vanished.

I’d fought for our little town over the years. I’d embraced a lot of the changes. I’d spun everything with a positive light.

While God had told me I wouldn’t be raising my children here… years later, I found I no longer wanted to.

I started talking to Jay about a potential move again. Reminding Him of what I truly felt were God’s words. But, his position was firm. “NO WAY!” He loved everything about where we lived, and most assuredly loved his job at church - in fact, he felt a clear calling to stay.

That was that. I wasn’t going to push the matter.

But as another year passed and my unease continued to grow, I prayed more and more for clarity. “What had those words meant, Lord? Change my heart or his, please. I want what’s best. And I know YOU know more than me. Guide me, Lord. I trust you.” Jay continued to excel in his position at church, he earned promotions, and was even asked to become a Pastor on staff.

God was moving in our family and in our city. I was overjoyed at what I saw as our girls got older, I started homeschooling the two “middle littles” while continuing to support our oldest in her hybrid homeschooling. Our little boy was hitting milestones at lightning speed with family all around.

Everything looked right on the outside… But it felt all wrong.

Eventually I reasoned “I must have heard God wrong. Or it wasn’t Him. If He wanted us to go, He wouldn’t want Jay and I to be at odds over this…” I decided I would try to force myself to quit thinking about it. I leaned harder into what was happening right in front of me and got excited about the revival that I was/am sure is coming to the PNW.

A week after I decided to be all in with our STAYING, Jay walked in the door. He looked a bit like his world had flipped upside down.

And, I suppose, in many ways it had…

“God is releasing me from my role at church,” He sounded a bit bewildered. “I don’t get it. I didn’t feel this way last week, but it’s real. I’m going to talk to the Pastor on Monday. God has something else planned for our family… I’m not sure what it is. But being on staff at this church right now isn’t part of it.”

This was where things started shifting rapidly… and our prayers ramped up. God was doing something. And this was just the first of many supernatural releases from constants that had anchored us here for a lifetime.

We didn’t know where we were going to go... But we knew we weren’t meant to stay…