I have willingly stepped out of my comfort zone.  The summer after my sophomore year in college, I flew to Miami with my buddy Katie, to embark on a summer of service.  We left our little college town and discovered the remarkable people of the inner city.  We were thrust into the lives of the homeless, people living in an AIDS Hospice, and children whose lives were torn apart by violence, drugs, and abuse.  Our world was shaken and the beautiful people we encountered in Miami will forever remain a part of our core.  That summer opened our eyes to a world so different from our own.  I remain incredibly thankful for that opportunity.

Then we returned home.  We slowly re-entered our comfortable world.  Our world of all things familiar and safe.  Katie and I chat from time to time, reflecting on that summer.  We are now both raising small tribes of our own.

18 years later, this comfort zone is about to be stepped out of again.  This time, not for a summer, not for a couple of months.  The first time, stepping out was easier, as we knew it was only temporary, we would be returning home as soon as our plane landed. This time, the move to the big city will be a more permanent one.  Our little tribe will be moving from the safety of a rural area to the great unknown of the deep deep south.  We are heading out of the familiarity of our home state to a strange land of swamps and gators.

This roller coaster life has taught me one thing, God’s got this.  Part of me wants to kick and scream to stay at home, close to my family.  Leaving my church home will be horrible, as I have known these friends for sixteen years.  They have walked with me through marriage and the birth of my four babies.  I could so easily be overcome with anxiety and worry.  It’s there, pressing in, waiting for me to open up to it.  I just keep pushing it away.  I have to trust God like I never have before.  If not for me, for my children.  They need to see my faith. They need to look forward to whatever God brings into their lives.

Although I will be leaving pieces of my heart behind, God’s blessings will abound in the bayou.

35 days


Callin’ Baton Rouge

Writing is my therapy.  It is my way of processing this world.

As soon as it was confirmed that we were moving, I immediately felt the need to write, to process.  This isn’t just a move a few miles away, more like 922 miles.

922 miles away from family

922 miles away from friends

922 miles away from familiar

The extroverted side of me is looking forward to this new adventure.  Meeting new people and experiencing a new world is invigorating.

The introverted side of me just wants to stay in my comfortable little world.  I don’t want to be stretched. I don’t want to start over.

But, that’s not what God wants.

He is clearly paving this path.  He clearly has something new for us to see and experience. Staying will keep us from fully living this life He has for us.

Bring it.  I’m ready.

36 days



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