The Weight of Goodbye

Its not my usual posting day, but today carries a lot of emotions.

In one week, I'll leave the only place I've ever called home.

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.

People ask if I'm excited, and I am. But excitement isn't the loudest emotion right now.

If I'm honest, I'm heartbroken.

Because in one week, I'm not just leaving a city. I'm leaving the familiar.

The streets I've wandered.

The parks Willow and I have explored.

The places that have witnessed every chapter of my life.

I'm leaving people who have become family.

The thought of saying goodbye hurts more than I know how to put into words.

For so long, I prayed for people who would simply stay.

People who would love me without expecting me to earn it.

God answered that prayer through my church family.

From the very beginning, they welcomed me, sat beside me, prayed with me, cried with me, and reminded me that I belonged.

Along the way, Celebrate Recovery became more than a program – it became home.

Walking away from that feels like leaving a piece of my heart behind.

This place has held some of the darkest chapters of my life.

It has been the place of abuse, betrayal, and trauma.

It is where I experienced sexual assault more than once. One assault resulted in a pregnancy that I ultimately had to end – a grief that still has no words. (I will forever love you Micah Asher)

It's where I lost people I loved.

Where my engagement ended.

Where I was told I was unloved, unwanted, and not enough.

Those memories are real.

But they are not the whole story.

Because this is also where I met Jesus in ways I never had before.

It's where He found me when I was exhausted and broken.

It's where He reminded me that my identity wasn't found in what had happened to me, but in whose I am.

It's where He gave me passions I never knew I had – writing, gardening, baking, studying His Word, spending time with animals, and discovering His fingerprints in creation.

It's where Willow and I learned what it means to trust God one day at a time.

How do you say goodbye to all of that?

I don't think you really do.

Instead, you carry it with you.

The friendships.

The prayers that were prayed over you.

The hugs.

The tears.

The worship.

The laughter.

The reminders that God never left.

I've asked myself over and over these last few weeks, "Will I be okay?"

The truth is, I don't know what waits for me next.

I don't know who I'll meet.

I don't know what doors God is about to open.

I don't know what challenges are ahead.

But I know the character of the One who is leading me.

"The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." — Deuteronomy 31:8

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight." — Proverbs 3:5–6

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." — Jeremiah 29:11

When I can't see what's ahead, I can remember what is behind me.

God has been faithful.

He was faithful through the trauma.

He was faithful through the broken engagement.

He was faithful through the hospital stays.

He was faithful through the seizures.

He was faithful when I couldn't see a way forward.

And because His character never changes, I know He'll be faithful in this next chapter too.

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast." — Psalm 139:9-10