I am moving to Kentucky (cue Dueling Banjos music). Never in my life had I ever imagined or entertained the idea of living in Kentucky, or really anywhere east of the Mississippi (aside from my home state of Wisconsin). I've always wanted to go west. I have visited Utah three times; I was actively saving to move to Idaho when I met my husband, and we were saving to move to Colorado this coming summer. But then, seemingly out of the blue, my husband suggested we move to Kentucky instead of Colorado. Excuse me? His reasons? First and foremost, Colorado is just too dang expensive. Second, his best friend is there. Third, we would geographically be in the middle of our spread-out family. And fourth, there will still be mountains (not quite the Rockies, but I guess it's better than flat farmland). He had solid points, and after much discussion and praying, I felt spiritual confirmation that it was the right thing to do. That confirmation apparently came not a moment too soon, for within the next two weeks unfolded a series of unfortunate events that led us to making the decision to move to Kentucky NOW. In two weeks. One week before Christmas. Five years ago, I left my ex on Dec. 28. I left behind a beautiful home, big backyard, nice neighborhood, and amazing dog. Because of the emotional and mental abuse I had endured, I had no idea if I would be able to function in the real world. I had absolutely no idea what lay ahead of me. That leap into the unknown was the most terrifying thing I have ever done, and it changed my life in the most profound ways. I found Christ, I found myself, and I discovered what it meant to feel deep, abounding joy. A year and a half ago, my fiancé (now husband) and I were struggling with finances and mental health, and after both of us losing our jobs, we decided to move back to my hometown. This was an abrupt, stressful move, and I was very sad to leave the sanctuary I had made for myself as a strong, reborn, independent woman. I was resistant to being back home and going to a new church. But it was that church that saved my marriage, and saved me in many ways. I have never felt more welcome, more at home, more alive, and more loved. This is where I don't understand God's timing. Why is he taking me away NOW? Why now, when I am so involved in church and have so many wonderful relationships here? But....as before...I have to trust that something better is on the horizon, however far-fetched and ridiculous that may feel at this moment. I have to have faith that there are other amazing people out there for me to meet, other people that I can help, or maybe they can help me. Other experiences for me to enjoy - or endure - that will hopefully make me a better person, or make my marriage stronger. I don't know. I just don't know. And all I can do right now is accept that I don't know, and be okay with it. Because the truth is, we have very little control over everything in our lives. We like to think we do, but we don't. You can make good, informed choices. You can be a hard worker. You can be a good friend, a good spouse. You can save money and pay off your bills and read self-help books and eat healthy and try to be the best person possible. Don't get me wrong - you should always strive to be a good person and make good choices - but sometimes those things don't make you immune from having your world completely up-ended. I'm starting to think God gets a kick out of upending my life. Does that mean He thinks I can handle it? I don't know. Maybe us humans were never meant to be stationary and stagnant. Maybe we thrive when we are faced with uncertainty, when we are on the move, when we are forced to endure uncomfortable situations and be experience new things. Buddhism teaches that nothing in the universe is essential - that everything that comes also goes, everything that lives must die, and everything that is created will crumble. It teaches that if you can accept this, you will be at peace. I am still working on this, but I can attest that my closest moments with my Savior have been in uncomfortable situations. So maybe that's the whole purpose of this abrupt move - because God saw that we were stagnant. We may not feel that way, but we can't begin to wrap our minds around the plans that God has in store for us. All we can do is trust that He knows the best way for us. I am going to miss my home. It was my husband and I's first place together. I am going to miss sitting on the patio in the summer. I am going to miss the garden we had plans for. I am going to miss the tall pine trees surrounding the big back yard, and all the critters. I'm just going to miss all of it. But I must welcome the adventure. Yes, it will be uncomfortable at times, and I'm sure there will be many more tears. But growth only happens in uncomfortable situations, and that I welcome. It may hurt for a moment, but I know it will be beautiful in the end.