When I recorded my last episode nearly six months ago, I had no idea what the future would look like for this podcast and the related social media work. I wasn’t necessarily planning on taking six months off, but I was worn out in all the ways, especially as I pondered the reality that my youngest is leaving home in less than one year. That alone has caused me deep reflection.
But, in the past six weeks, my life has literally turned on its head. Processing the upcoming empty nest and my changing role is now the least of my worries. But this is a story of hope and peace and God showing up in so many miraculous ways.
With all the heaviness that has overtaken the world in the last week, I thought it might be a good time to talk about the reality and goodness of God. And this story, that is still evolving, does just that.
Let’s talk about it.
Last August, I was alone in my car one morning after dropping my son off at school. As I drove and prayed, a common practice for me, a clear thought came out of nowhere and penetrated every inch of my mind: “Don’t hold on too tightly.”
I knew it came from God because I don’t talk to myself like that, but it did not seem to align with anything that was happening in my life at that time. Instead, it felt foreboding, and fear was my initial reaction. Was I going to lose somebody or something that deeply mattered to me? Was my health or my family in jeopardy?
In the weeks and months that followed, I tried to make sense of what felt like a divine warning, but none of my explanations seemed to fit, and the Lord offered no further clarification. So, for a year, the phrase, “Don’t hold on too tightly” has been the background music of my life.
Until everything changed.
A few short weeks ago, I sent my youngest child to his last first day of school. How are we less than one year from the empty nest? It feels surreal and I want to hold on as tightly as I can to every moment I have with him at home.
A few days before that emotional milestone, my husband and I came to the unexpected realization that it was time for him to look for other professional opportunities. He fully expected to stay at his current dental practice through retirement. For the past 18 years, he has given his heart and soul to building that practice and caring for the kids that filled his waiting room. Leaving was not something he anticipated.
But the more he tried to work out the details of staying, the more clearly the Lord’s words from 12 months ago echoed in our ears: “Don’t hold on too tightly.”
It finally made sense.
As we have wrestled with the Lord about our rapidly changing reality, it has become clear that His plans are different from ours. Even initially, it did not feel like a coincidence that the job would be ending at the same time our youngest went to college and within months of my husband’s expected release as the bishop of our ward. It felt like the Lord was tying a bow on our time here in Arizona, leading us away from the beautiful life we have built here and into the uncertainty of a place we never anticipated.
But, somehow, even amid our sadness at the thought of leaving, it felt right.
So, with faith and a little trepidation, my husband posted his resume on the American Academy of Pediatric Dentistry job board. Within days, job recruiters were begging us to come see their practices from Rhode Island to Texas and everywhere in between. But, in a roundabout way that had the Lord’s fingerprints all over it, we found what appeared to be the perfect job in Kansas City. We could not explain the magnetic draw we both felt to that area, but it was unrelenting.
Not coincidentally, we had previously planned a trip to Nauvoo for Labor Day, just a couple of weeks from the time we started investigating this practice. We were initially going to fly from Phoenix to St. Louis before driving the three hours to Nauvoo. But, with these unexpected new developments, we decided instead to fly into Kansas City and spend a day visiting the practice and seeing the city before driving to Nauvoo.
Being there cemented the growing feeling that the Lord was calling us to Missouri. But how and when would we be able to go?
My husband was locked into a contract with his Arizona practice for another year unless they found the perfect doctor to replace him before that. The Kansas City practice, on the other hand, was losing one of their doctors in October and needed him ASAP. They felt like he was a good fit and were willing to wait, but they really could not afford to wait long.
The timing was completely out of our hands and not looking promising.
Meanwhile, while driving though Kansas City on our way to Nauvoo, we found what appeared to be the perfect house. It was listed as “coming soon” and not open for tours yet, but everything about it felt unexplainably right. So, without any firm timeline, no idea if or how things would work out, and having never set foot inside the home, we put in an offer, along with other bidders, one of whom offered cash. We did not feel like we could compete with cash, but the sellers somehow chose our offer.
How did they choose our offer? And what in the world were we doing? This made zero sense.
As we considered whether to move forward with the offer on the house, my prayer went something like this: “Heavenly Father, this feels crazy. Please stop us if it is not a good idea.”
But, instead, it felt like a whirlwind was propelling us forward in ways we could not explain, and we were in for the ride of our lives.
In the meantime, an applicant for my husband’s job came out of the woodwork. She seemed like a perfect fit in every way and could start in 60 days, freeing him up to move to Missouri by the end of the year. And, with the sellers of our newly contracted house requesting a 60-day escrow period, our first mortgage payment would not be due until January 1st.
How could we deny the Lord’s hand in the roller-coaster of events that were literally and very rapidly falling into place one by one? It felt (and continues to feel) surreal.
There are still many details that must align before we make this move. But, at the beginning of this journey, when uncertainty was king, the Lord led me to this verse:
“I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about to bear you up.” (D&C 84:88)
God has showed us with unmistakable clarity that He is going before us to Missouri. He is on our right hand and our left. His Spirit has filled our hearts, and His angels have been our trusty companions.
It feels as if He is saying, “Stand still, with the utmost assurance…to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed.” (D&C 123:17)
Or, in other words, “Don’t worry; I’ve got you.”
And He is proving that with miracles and tender mercies almost daily, for which I am humbled and so very grateful.
Less than two months ago, our plan was to stay in Arizona until retirement. Our two grandbabies (and son and daughter-in-law, of course) just moved from Provo to Tucson for a 5-year PhD program, and we were finally close enough to see them on a regular basis. The fact that we lived in Arizona factored into their decision to come here. How can we leave them and the rest of our kids and move to the Midwest? The thought is heartbreaking.
We are constantly considering the implications of leaving 18 years of friends, family, experiences, and memories behind and stepping into the darkness of the great unknown.
And are we really going to do this the literal second that our youngest graduates? (I will stay in AZ with him until May, and my husband will head to Missouri in December, which will bring a unique set of challenges.)
A few months ago, I thought the upcoming empty nest and my changing role in life was almost too much to process. Now, we are combining that with a new city, a new state, a new job, and a completely new life away from all our kids.
And to be true, I am worried about how that transition will go. My husband will have instant connections through work. I, on the other hand, will not have kids to connect me to other people, and will have to work much harder not to feel lonely and disconnected – a daunting challenge as an introvert.
But, in the same breath, the Lord is literally calling us to Zion- the epicenter of Second Coming prophecy - and that is so exciting! Both my husband and I have the absolute assurance that God is leading the charge, which means everything will turn out exactly as it needs to. There is peace in that realization, but that does not make it easy.
While we were in Nauvoo two weeks ago, we walked down Parley Street to the Mississippi River – a path that is now known as the Trail of Hope. As I stood on the banks of that river, looking back at the city and the temple in the distance, I pondered what it must have been like for my ancestors who walked that same path nearly 200 years ago. What thoughts and feelings might they have had as they looked back one last time at the beautiful city they had built with their own hands, and then turned their sights to the frozen river and the unknown road ahead – a path born of repeated persecution and a desire to follow God?
I cannot truly imagine what that must have been like for them, but I do know they did not stop on the banks of the river. They continued to walk, one uncertain step at a time, trusting God to guide them through whatever came until they reached their new home.
Their faith inspires mine.
I have not been forced from my home or endured unimaginable persecution at the hands of angry mobs, but I am standing at the end of my own version of Parley Street. I am looking back just long enough to see the beautiful life the Lord has allowed me to build in Arizona these last 18 years. And, like my faithful ancestors, I now choose to turn my face toward the unknown and step onto the frozen river.
I will not hold on too tightly to what was, but I will trust that God is in charge and will lead me, one step at a time, to the version of Zion He has for me.
I’ve got this because He has got me. Of this, I am certain.
Let’s go on a new adventure!
