Waiting to Move

Waiting to MoveBetween the lines of the crosswalk our voices carried excitement and laughter “Germany!” “Colorado!” “Spain!” “Alasaka!”. Could you expect less from friends working at a local gear shop? We spouted off places we’d like to live. Turns out, I married one of those friends and a year after marriage we made a bold move- we left our hometown.

Strategically (understatement) I landed a job in Colorado and we whooshed away. Only thing, it didn’t turn out exactly as planned. My husband of a year found the dreamy outdoor industry wasn’t what he expected or enough to provide for the baby that suddenly started growing in my womb.

Our year-long strategic plan, prime geography and incredible church were suddenly on scales. We were young(ish), lived in an incredible city, had a healthy baby son and good friends but daily life was unbearable. We wondered if we should move home.

At the brink of the Great Economic Collapse my stable income was behind us as I stayed home with our son. Steve changed careers before anyone could make heads of the economic situation in hopes of providing wholly for our family. Financially destitute but resolved to stay in the place we chose to call home.

Then came the relationship collapse. My husband and I argued and left our exchanged our shoulder to shoulder position of protecting our family for arming ourselves. Fortresses built we were no longer one against the world, we were all for one, one for all.

Life grew worse in the wake of losing a second baby. Smiles and excitement vanished when we stopped for bagels on the way to the first ultrasound. Nothing felt peculiar until everything did. I couldn’t form a sentence through my hysteria but somehow we left Einsteins and hurried to the appointment. My world imploded when my fears were confirmed by the ultrasound. God’s sovereignty prevailed and my doctor was current on the latest research (I educated my hometown doctors when we moved back).  Months later I was pregnant, the third time in a year and we welcomed a healthy baby into the world.

After the pins and needles birth of our fourth baby I boarded a plane to introduce her to our extended family. While the kids and I flew across the Rockies my ninety-one year old grandpa caused a car wreck that landed him in the hospital and snapped my final straw to move home. What if? What if that was our dad? Who would care for him? Who will care for our parents when they can’t? In the chaos my drive towards family spun out-of-control and later paid dividends.

When the kids and I arrived to our utopian geography my husband and I caved. Yes, we will move back home to be near family. At that time, it didn’t seem like a spiritual decision but I see now how God waited for us to finally say, “Yes, we’ll go”.

These days our hearts are far more sensitive to God’s leading and willing to obey and trust His direction. Under significantly better circumstances we’ve again told God, “Yes, we’ll go.” This time we’re moving into the unknown, a place we did not choose as our utopia and certainly not for five-star food. In a matter of weeks we will leave our family, a thriving business and the best taco trucks in the west (yes, that’s not to be trifled with). Wanderlust? Honestly, I’m too scared to resist God’s leading again.

Who’s waiting on who?

Are you waiting on God

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