When God Calls You to Move

I grew up in the same community and lived in the same home for 18 years. With the exception of summer trips to visit family up north, my life was relatively consistent and familiar. When I left for college, it was the first time I’d lived away from my hometown for any extended period of time. During my four years of undergrad, I became acquainted with moving and moving often. I moved in and out of dorms between semesters and during summer break. I moved rooms as building changes were made or relocation was required based on a new role I’d accepted, such as becoming a Residential Assistant or joining student government. And I had a few more moves when I decided to rent a room in a boarding house and later leased my first, small apartment just before leaving for Peace Corps.

The next five years or so after graduation brought even more movement. I moved to another country and then back to the U.S. I moved to Atlanta temporarily and then back to South Carolina to attend grad school. I moved to Las Vegas for work and then back to the east coast to be closer to family, as well as friends. Moving started to become a common theme in my life. If you grew up in a military family or with parents who worked for other government entities that required frequent relocation, my moves may seem minor. But for someone who spent the first part of their life in a close-knit, consistent community, the moves began to exhaust me.

Even after returning to the east coast, I continued to move every two years or so – this time to different parts of metro Atlanta. Four years ago I moved once again. It is still amazing to me that I have been in one place for four years: in the same home and with the same employer. While this settling in feels a bit comforting, my heart often grieves the things of former seasons.

I’ve written about this before, but my (still) new city is quite different from any place I’ve ever lived. The pace is different. The entertainment options are different. The demographics are … different. While I embrace these differences on most days, I still find myself longing for some of what I left behind. In these last few months and after a visit to Atlanta to be with friends, I began to ask what is life like when God calls us to move?

I admire people who have lived in one place for decades or who are like my mom and have worked for the same employer for 26 years. I find it noble to stay with a community through the ups and downs; to sift through the chaotic waters and remain committed. Moving can be exciting. Starting over can be invigorating. But it can also be lonely. It means meeting – or hoping to meet – new friends. It means reestablishing community. It means embracing new opportunities and hoping they are viable.

So again, during these last few months I’ve tried to dig deeper to explore what I am truly feeling about all the moves I’ve made and what it means to accept where I now reside as home. One of the first major acknowledgments I had to make is that not only has my city changed, but I have changed – I have matured – I have grown. I long for depth in my relationships and joy in my activities. I long for peace in my encounters and safety in my vulnerability. While I felt more “footloose and free” in my 20s, my age and experiences remind me to be more discerning in who I welcome into my life. Another thing I am becoming more accepting of is that on most days I choose joy. My default is joy and gratitude and happiness. This often translates to me readily removing myself from spaces that don’t mirror these affections. And finally or most relevant, is that every place I have lived has served as a timely teacher. Each city and country I’ve lived in has helped me to expand, meet new people, mature, and grow closer to the person I am becoming. Without those experiences, I wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t appreciate the vastness and diversity of human encounters. I wouldn’t long for and appreciate travel. I wouldn’t be interested in or drawn to multicultural places or inclusive spaces. My movements have shaped me. And with those shapings, and bendings and growings, I believe I have been even more equipped to go out into the world and serve as a source of light in new places.

So yes, my movements have often felt like a lot. Yes, I often miss being in close proximity to my deep and multifaceted friends. Yes, I miss the cultural richness, diversity, and array of entertainment available in other places I’ve lived. But I also see purpose in me being right where I am. I see with clarity how God is using me in this space. And I remain open to moving again if and when that time comes. How have you or are you settling in to a move God called you to make?

Where you lead me, I will follow. Where you send me, I will go.