If all goes as planned, I'll be leaving the mountain-hemmed port town of Anchorage, Alaska and moving to the Midwestern plains of Columbus, Ohio in four weeks.
If you’re surprised, imagine how I feel.
Some good friends of mine have been praying about Columbus for over ten years, and ultimately have felt compelled to pack up their SoCal lives and move to that city, in order to plant a God-honoring, gospel-centered church.
More power to you, I said two years ago.
I was happy for them, and happy to help in any way I could…from Alaska.
But itchy feet, it turns out, are not always the sign of an encroaching foot fungus. Sometimes they are more akin to a dewy fleece. I began to feel restless, and ready for a change. Maybe another international trip, or an exciting romance, or ramping up my business and hiring a bunch of baby bean counters – I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I wanted something. And I wanted whatever it was to count.
So this past August, when I visited the Burns and the Flowers in California and listened to their plans, the idea of actually joining them began to take root.
And after a month of prayer and talking with people I trusted…it was a yes.
These past few months have been some of the best of my life – all the stars that had to align to make this move possible have flown to their places, as though guided. My job is flexible enough that I can work from anywhere, and travel home to Alaska regularly. My apartment will be left in the capable (?) hands of my newly-graduated kid brother. My dog will learn the meaning of “humidity.”
The unknowns are legion, but at this point I do not feel anxious.
In fact, I’m super excited.