Back in May, we made a big family decision.
Putting our house on the market seemed really spur of the moment to practically everyone in our lives. And it was, kind of. We wanted to move, but were resigned to stay because sometimes easy wins. We just couldn’t imagine packing up the house we’d lived in for nearly nine years (and our garage that housed Mercy House) on the heels of our trip to Kenya. Our reasons for moving might not have made sense to some, but when our kids asked to attend school in a district with less (monetary and academic) pressure, we knew it was now or never.
Our house sold in 10 days and we did just what we thought we couldn’t. We moved our stuff and transferred to another school district completely jet lagged. It was a short/long summer and it was exhausting and scary.
But I believe this:
“By changing nothing, nothing changes.” -Tony Robbins
And change is hard. Nothing has been perfect, but everything has been good. Better than I dared hope. My son and new Kindergartener love their school. It is a perfect fit, I couldn’t have hand-picked better teachers (thank you, God!) for them. My son gets the extra year of Elementary that we thought he needed (we were right, I love it when that happens) and he gets to be big brother. And someone forgot to tell the Principal he can’t pray in school. Yep, it’s good.
Our 7th grader had a good first week. We quickly learned that junior high is a WHOLE NOTHER THING. (And I uncovered a lot of unresolved middle school angst.) But she really likes her teachers, has made a handful of sweet friends and I picked her up early on Friday and took her shopping because I sensed she needed it (again, on the being right thing, I’m on a roll). It was exactly what we needed. Later she called me up to her room and pulled out a notebook from Youth Group. She told me how their leader asked them to write down the one person that is there for them and understands them. Inside the pages, were the words: My Mom.
I cried.
And then we had chocolate and she tried on clothes for me.
Our house is about 98% unpacked and I’m thinking about just throwing out the other 2%. I want to paint the beige walls, but with our Mercy House building finally up, I’m not going to push my luck with my beyond-exhausted husband. (The roll, it continues).
I love the (very) quiet, mature neighborhood (I do miss my neighbors, but we are being intentional about staying in contact) and we feel very blessed.
“The best thing you can do is the right thing; the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing; the worst thing you can do is nothing.” -Theodore Roosevelt
We spent a lot of years wondering what the “right thing” to do was regarding where we live. Sometimes we do nothing because it’s just the easiest thing to do. But we’ll never know unless we try. This time we got it right.
