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I hate moving. I hate uprooting from everything that feels familiar and comfortable to seemingly start all over again. When we made the decision to move from Utah to Tennessee, I dreaded almost every aspect of it. I dreaded the packing, I dreaded the cross country road trip with a baby and two hamsters, and I dreaded unpacking. But the thing that filled me with the most dread was the fact that we were leaving our home, and we didn’t have another home to go to.

It is such a privilege to live in the same city as my parents. They have been so kind to let us stay in their home for the last several weeks while we looked for a home of our own. But their home could never be our home, and the time between arriving here and finding the home God had prepared for us has been difficult. Although God has provided for all of our material needs, and we haven’t been “houseless” I’ve definitely felt “homeless” at times. I’ve felt like there wasn’t a place that was a safe haven just for my family. Over the last few weeks, I’ve had my life verse on my mind quite a bit.

Psalm 71:3

Be thou my strong habitation, whereunto I may continually resort: thou hast given commandment to save me; for thou art my rock and my fortress.

My greatest comfort in this time of transition has been the fact that my habitation, my dwelling place, isn’t necessarily a place. No matter how “homeless” I may feel, I can be confident that I have a home in the person of God. I can go to Him anywhere and at any time. He saved my soul, and I can trust Him to take care of my deepest soul needs every day, no matter where I am.

Today is the day we officially move into our home. I had been praying for several weeks before leaving Utah that God would prepare the home that He had for us, and, as always, He answered in an amazing way. We heard about a duplex for rent from a friend of a friend, and it is absolutely perfect for our current needs as a family (one of those needs includes being hamster friendly!)

There’s still a little bit of transition time yet to come. There are lots of boxes that need to be unpacked, and the sight of all the clutter currently in our home is a little unnerving to me. But I’m a firm believer in the art of homemaking, and I’m incredibly excited to be able to begin the work of making this place a safe haven for our family.

When we lived in Utah, we had a wooden sign that said “HOME” with the “O” shaped like the state of Utah. As we prepared to move into our new home, it was a top priority of mine to find a sign that featured the state of Tennessee as our new home. Wherever God has me on this earth, I want to be all there, fully engaged and ready to serve Him. But even though God has provided a dwelling place for my family on this earth for this season of our lives, I never want to forget that He is my true dwelling place. When I go to Him in prayer and rest my soul in the truths of His Word, that’s when I’m truly at home.

I love for life to be in nice, tidy boxes. I like for things to be orderly, predictable and routine oriented. However, my life is currently in literal boxes as we will be leaving our home in Utah in just a few hours, and ironically, there is nothing predictable or routine oriented about that. But sometimes the best things in life don’t fit in neat little boxes. In fact, several things won’t be going in boxes as we make our last minute preparations.

People don’t fit in nice tidy boxes, for moves or otherwise. Our sweet little baby will be traveling safely in her car seat, obviously not in a box. Babies also don’t fit into orderly, predictable boxes in life; I’ve learned that much in the nine months I’ve had with my little one. However, babies are one of God’s greatest gifts. Marriage certainly doesn’t fit in a tidy box either; it’s work, and it’s unpredictable, but it can be one of the sweetest things in life.

Some precious memory items won’t be traveling in boxes either, like the bamboo we bought on the due date of our first baby, Gwenivere, who went to heaven before we could meet her. That season of our life certainly didn’t fit into a tidy box, but we grew because of it.

My Bible won’t be going in a box; it will likely be within arms reach of wherever I’m at because I’m learning that I can’t live without God’s Word consistently pouring into my life. God doesn’t fit in our little human boxes either. He’s unpredictable, and sometimes we don’t understand what He’s doing. But that’s okay because His ways are better than ours.

Isaiah 55:9

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

There are so many things I don’t understand about what God is doing in my life right now, but I don’t want to put Him in one of my boxes of routine and predictability; I want Him to have free reign in my life to do His will. He always knows best.

I hate change. I remember telling my friends at my high school in Tennessee that I had decided to go to college in California; the general consensus was that that was a lot of change for someone who had eaten the exact same thing for lunch every day for the last five years. But I was excited for the adventure; I knew it was temporary. And I embraced it.

At said college in California, I met the man who would be my husband. I have a very distinct memory from a few months before we started dating, shortly after I had developed the biggest crush of my life on “cute Steve”. We were standing outside the dining hall and he was telling me about how God was leading him to serve in the ministry in Utah. He mentioned that Utah was a great place to have a family. I involuntarily thought, “Yes, please! Take me to Utah and have a family with me!” In that moment I learned that my future husband was not a mind reader, otherwise he probably would have never asked out that creepy college girl. However, from that moment, that was the dream. And God was so good to me in allowing that dream to come true.

Moving to Utah was a big change. But I was completely determined to make it our home because I knew for sure this was where God had led us, and obviously that meant we would spend the rest of our lives here. In my wholehearted belief of the permanency of our residency in Utah, I sold my rain boots that I obviously wouldn’t need anymore and bought not one, but two pairs of snow boots. That would last me a couple decades worth of Utah winters, right? Little did I know, God would only give us three and a half winters in Utah.

Last October, we received a letter from a pastor in Tennessee asking us to come work with the teen ministry and the bus ministry at his church. He said God had put us on his heart quite some time ago. I was dumbfounded. I actually opened the letter at home by myself because I didn’t know what it was, and when my husband came home, he was certain that the look on my face meant someone had died. I couldn’t believe he was actually excited about the possibility of leaving our home in Utah! But God had a lot of work to do on my heart in the area of surrender.

We spent several months praying together about how the Lord was leading us. God gave Steven peace about moving long before He gave me peace, but I realize that’s because my flesh and my aversion to change were getting in the way. Eventually, God convicted me that my calling had not changed: I was still called to submit to and follow my husband. So I started working on submission to God in the form of submitting to my husband. Slowly but surely, God started to change my heart about moving. I still have my moments when my flesh gets in the way and I just don’t want to go, but I’m learning to walk more closely to the Lord and live a life of surrender.

I think my problem is that I long for something permanent, but I’m learning more and more that my true permanent home is not on this earth; it’s in heaven.

Hebrews 13:14

For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come.

So until I get to heaven, I am choosing to be willing to dwell wherever God leads us, not getting too attached to one place. We will be leaving Utah and going to Tennessee at the beginning of July. I’ll definitely need to buy new rain boots, but I’ll keep at least one pair of snow boots; who knows where God will lead us next! Perhaps we’ll stay in Tennessee the rest of our lives, maybe God will lead us to a snowy place, or maybe He’ll lead us to somewhere in the desert where it doesn’t rain or snow. No matter what, I’m trying not to tie myself too firmly to this earth. Soon I’ll get to be in heaven, and I won’t need rain boots or snow boots (but as a shoe person, I secretly hope we get to wear some kind of shoes in heaven).