I've realized that our story isn't really about traveling around the country.
It's moreso about learning what it means to follow Jesus when following Him means leaving something really good behind.
We weren’t leaving because we're unhappy with our life. We're weren’t running from our home, our community, or the rhythms we've built as a family. In many ways, we loved our life.
And that's what makes packing up and leaving so complicated.
This home has held so much of our family. It has held ordinary homeschool mornings and family dinners, birthday celebrations and bedtime prayers, laughter, tears, growing children, hard conversations, and thousands of little moments we didn't realize we'd someday miss.
Our kids have grown up here.
There is so much good here.
And yet, over the last year, God began stirring something in both Jared and me—a desire to break out of man’s expectations, to explore His creation, to step outside of what was familiar, and to experience something new together as a family.
At first, it was easy to romanticize the adventure. But eventually we had to ask a harder question:
Are we willing to leave something we love if Jesus was asking us to go?
I remember sitting down two years ago at my piano one day and crafting this simple song-prayer. I sang this prayer over and over:
“I known you for too long, walked with you through too much, to ever tell you no.”
I didn’t know how deeply my spirit would need to be in agreement to make this all doable.
And honestly, that YES we gave him has been so incredibly emotional. Alllll the realms of emotion.
There have been moments of excitement and moments of grief. Moments when we've wondered if we're crazy. Moments when it would be easier to stay.
Because staying wouldn't been bad or wrong... and that's perhaps the hardest part.
Sometimes following Jesus doesn't mean leaving something bad. Sometimes it means being willing to release something good because you trust that He is leading you toward something you cannot yet see.
We've been learning this as a family through the process of letting go—and watched our children wrestle with what they want to keep. Walking with them as they make hard choices in choosing memories over things.
In the process, we've had some beautiful conversations about the difference between enjoying good things and needing those things to make us feel safe.
Because our home is good. Our possessions are good. Comfort is good. But none of those things are God. And if we aren't careful, good things can quietly become the things we trust most.
So we're practicing release.
We're teaching our children—and reminding ourselves—that the safest place isn't necessarily the most comfortable place.
The safest place is wherever Jesus is leading.
But the destination isn't really the point.
Jesus is.
We're learning to trust the One who sees the whole road when we can only see the next mile.
And maybe that's the gift our children will receive from this season.
Not just memories of mountains and oceans and new places, but a lived experience of what it looks like to follow Jesus when you don't have all the answers.
To love something deeply and still be willing to let it go. To grieve what you're leaving without believing you've made the wrong choice.
To discover that obedience can be both painful and peaceful.
To learn that Jesus is worth following—especially when following Him costs us something.
So we’re out here, putting our feet on the road with four kids, a trailer, a lot less stuff, and an open calendar.
We don't know exactly what's ahead.
But we know Who is ahead of us and who guards us from behind.
And for us, that's enough.
