A year ago, we packed our lives into boxes and headed to Alabama.
Like many families, we had hopes. Dreams. Plans. We believed we were stepping into a new chapter and trusted that everything would fall into place once we got there.
And in many ways, it did.
We met kind and fun people. We learned new things. We experienced a different pace of life. We made memories we wouldn’t trade. But somewhere along the way we began to realize something difficult:
Just because a door opens doesn’t mean it’s where you’re meant to stay forever.
That can be a hard thing to admit. Especially when you’ve invested time, money, energy, and a whole lot of prayer into a decision.
We live in a world that celebrates pushing forward at all cost. We admire people who never quit, never change course, and never look back. But sometimes, wisdom looks different. Sometimes wisdom sounds like, “this isn’t working the way we thought it would.” Sometimes faith sounds like, “Lord, what are you trying to teach us?” And sometimes humility sounds like, “I think we need to go home.”
For a while, I wrestled with those thoughts:
Was moving a mistake?
Had we gotten it wrong?
Had we somehow missed God’s will?
But the more I prayed, the more I realized something important: God’s plans are not dependent on my perfection. If every blessing required perfect decision making, none of us would experience grace. The truth is, God can use every chapter.
The exciting ones.
The painful ones.
The confusing ones.
Even the ones that don’t unfold the way we expected.
If was part of the journey. It taught us things we could not have learned any other way. It reminded us what mattered the most. It showed us what we value. And perhaps most importantly, it helped us recognize where home truly is.
So we are packing our boxes, again.
Not because we failed. Not because we’re giving up. But because we believe God is leading us in a different direction. There is a surprising amount of peace that comes with surrender. The peace of no longer needing to prove I made the right choice. The peace of accepting that I am human. The peace of trusting that God can guide my steps even when the road takes an unexpected turn.
As I sit here with my coffee, my little planner and a growing list of moving tasks, I can’t help but smile at the gratitude section written cross this week’s page.
My family
Slow summer days
Our new home
Being able to go back home
Those words say everything. We are grateful for Alabama. We are grateful for the lessons. And we are grateful that sometimes God’s answer isn’t “keep going.”
Sometimes His answer is simply: “Come home.”
So, Sweet Carolina… We are coming home.
And we are trusting that God is already there, preparing the next chapter.
