Moving Story- Jan. 2010

Stephanie in Alabama
Moving On and Moving Forward...

I first learned of [Just Moved!] after our second move in 2001 to Missouri. Since then we have lived in Arizona and currently we are living in Alabama but we are preparing for another move 200 miles [away]. I was blessed to have found your [Moving On After Moving In] class in Missouri and Arizona.

[This will be] our 5th move since summer of 2000. I've always taken the positive approach with each move and looked at it as a new adventure. I've made wonderful friends in each city and kept up with them through the years. My then teenage son had such a difficult time when we moved to Arizona, he moved with grandparents to New Mexico which is home for us. Wow, I still get emotional just typing this. We have a great relationship and talk daily.

Even though we are only moving 200 miles (the shortest move we've ever made) I'm feeling all the overwhelming emotions. Only through God have I gotten through each move and some how these emotions are lost and forgotten until the next move. I read Susan Miller’s book within weeks of knowing we'd be making another move and have viewed your website many times as well. Thank you for your insight and support through this book it's been a true blessing each time I read it.

Moving Story- Dec. 2009

Rosalie in Manitoba, Canada, Part II

(JM – I hope you read Rosalie’s moving story last month as she shared what she and many other women experience as “still moved”: despite the passage of years since a move, she is still adjusting and not “at home”. Well... printing Rosalie’s story prompted her to send an update! Whether you’re “still moved” or a recent mover, Rosalie will show you how she made choices that led to growth, and spiritual and emotional health in spite of her circumstances. You’ll also find out about a big change in store for Rosalie and her family!)

Thriving – not just surviving – in a difficult move...

While moving has been an adventure, it has also been full of challenges and, as the mom/wife, has especially felt like a personal sacrifice at times since I wasn’t the one moving to an exciting new career. Nevertheless, I have constantly sought to focus on the positives, the growth, and the discoveries. By moving we were able to accomplish dreams such as having a nicer home without me having to work fulltime to pay for it. I thank God I have a kitchen where the cupboard doors stay on the hinges and there are no mice running around.

In our two moves, we have been able to experience new geography, climate and culture. We now have a collection of friends from various parts of the country and an understanding of how things are done in each place. Our character has been challenged when we’ve gotten frustrated by crazy new traffic signs and rules of a new city. We’ve experienced the foggy, overcast winter of the West and the minus 40 degree winters of the Prairies.

We’ve adjusted to the blank stares and disinterest we get when striking up a conversation about our home town. We are quite familiar with the run-around we feel when we start in a new church and have to prove ourselves all over again.

The difficulties have challenged me to become creative and bold in finding what it is I need for myself. I have forced myself out of my comfort zone many times. I have a dog I take for walks, usually by myself, where I have met lots of dog-walking strangers. I’ve said yes to opportunities where I began as a volunteer that progressed into paid assignments. I’ve taken courses by teleconferencing and have built a network and a business online – one I can take with me if I move. I take my Facebook connections seriously. I have a deep understanding of the issues of a woman’s heart, especially the moving woman. Our relationship as a couple has withstood many tests, as has our faith, especially when we’ve had cabin fever and turned on each other, or felt abandoned by God. What I mean by cabin fever, is that which comes by nature of being each other’s best friends and spending a lot of time in our own home because it is just too hard to find other deep friends and places to go for holidays and so forth.

I’ve sought to provide my family with what I feel it needs to be happy and well-rounded. I’ve spent umpteen hours planning getaways that not only have included visiting family back home, but fun places the children hadn’t been to, turning over every stone I could find in the general vicinity.

I have made it a priority to work at making sure certain things happen, like birthday parties, going to a yearly Christmas Eve service even if it’s in a church where we don’t know anyone, taking in a Christmas light tour, and baking the traditional Christmas cookies even if it would be only the four of us eating them. I have made sure that we have technology-free family fun days, lunches out together and that we always try to include the children’s friends in our activities. We have sought to be part of a small group in a church, and to stay true to our values.

Recently we’ve had a surprise. Two months ago my husband was told his job is changing again. It looks like this summer, after 13 years away from our homeland, we will be returning. This wasn’t something we sought out, but that was proposed to us. At first it jolted us, but now we see God’s loving hand in it.

We don’t look forward to the hard work of selling a home, travelling to buy a new one and all the other thousands of things that need to happen with a move; but we will head back home stronger, more mature, with better personal boundaries and a stronger sense of what it is we need included in our lives to feel grounded and more appreciative of that environment. We are looking forward to what lies ahead, after all, for some of us there’s no place like home.

A Moving Story

Rosalie in Manitoba, Canada

Still moved...

Some of us who moved away from our home area more than five years ago still have a piece of us “back home” that is hard to reconcile.

Often as “still-moved” women, our vacation money and time is spent making trips “back home”. Our aging parents may be there which tugs at our heart. Most of the extended family is “back home” and our children don’t get to have their grandparents and extended family members at their graduations, birthdays and other special holidays. It gets lonely just the four of us. Old friendships that were deep back then slip down the tubes and it is never quite the same making friends in the new locations.

There seems to be something missing from the fabric of my life as a woman, to be in what feels like a foreign land for an extended period of time. We wanted to move back “home” two years ago, but our kids were at a stage in school where they didn’t want to be separated from their friends. So we stayed. Now I feel trapped in this freezing climate, feeling like I’m living some other woman’s life. I don’t know if this will ever be home but now I fear my kids will want to stay here and that will pose a whole new problem. I’m trying to see God’s hand in all this but often it’s hard.

Of course what is prompting this email is a decision not to go home for the holidays and it will be just us four. It has been hard to plug into a new church as it doesn’t seem to be what it used to be. So I have to wonder if this truly is God’s best for us.

Thanks for listening.

A Moving Story

I had unpacked my boxes... and my heart

Behold, I will make something new. Now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, rivers in the desert. - Isaiah 43 ;18 -19

One Wednesday evening last fall, I walked into a small classroom at the end of the hall at Cornerstone Christian Fellowship where the church Bible studies were being held. As I walked into the classroom, a small group of women greeted me.

"Is this the class for Moving On After Moving In?" I asked.

"Yes, you are in the right place! Come on in and welcome!" Ann, the class leader, said.

Picture this: Just two months prior, I had moved to a new place from across the country. Having lived on the east coast my whole life, I had moved to a strange desert land where grass doesn't naturally grow and the sky is always blue.

I had no family or friends here. My house was full of unpacked boxes. I didn't have a clue who the good doctors were or even where the Wal-Mart was. I was angry at having to leave my beloved home in Raleigh, North Carolina, where we had lived for 20 years, and all my friends and family. My two young adult children, one a rising senior in high school, had to leave all of their friends behind.

Even though we had to come here for my husband's work, I was still angry with him and with the world in general. I was in despair and lost; body and soul.

And then I heard those few little words, "Welcome, you are in the right place." As the weeks would progress, we would study After the Boxes are Unpackedand I would learn that God makes no mistakes and that I was indeed in the right place in more ways than one. He knew better than I how my life would unfold and He was not "out to get me" nor would He abandon me. Indeed, I learned that I am one of his children and that He is with me every minute!

But on that first day, I was not thinking either about God's presence in my life or about his blessings. All I thought was, "Ah... Here are other women just like me." And as I watched Susan relate her stories in her videos during the class, I realized that she was just like me: a Southern gal missing her heritage and her roots.

Ann had greeted me that first day with such a wonderful warm smile, a box of Kleenex was on the table, and I knew I had found kinship and a safe place to fall and begin to pick myself up. Over the coming weeks, we would cry and hug and try to figure out what God's purpose was for us in our respective moves.

It was only much later that I was able to see God's handiwork in my move and in the lives of the other women in the class. Now things don't look as bleak, due in large part to this time of fellowship. I know that if I hadn't had that class, I might still be lying in bed wondering how I was going to face the day. God knew just what I needed and He provided it through this class and those women.

Moving Story

Rose Jackson in Arizona

God's Goodness: The Power of Purpose

It was an unlikely spot for a miracle to begin: the curb of a Howard Johnson’s parking lot on a Friday night. I huddled on the cold concrete, oblivious to the flaming glory of autumn leaves above me, my husband inside the hotel oblivious to my desolate grief. My chest heaved with sobs as I cried out from an abyss of desperation, “Did you bring me here to abandon me?”

So much had gone wrong in the six weeks since the September morning I’d said good-bye to our older son and his fiancée, our family, our home of 28 years, our friends, and a dynamic church - aside from my husband and our younger son, everyone and everything that mattered to me. My husband’s new job took us 2,000 miles across the country. Our house sold in two hours – a hopeful balm to the loss I felt - and I considered the lightning-quick sale confirmation that God’s hand was guiding our move.

But was it? The 40 houses we’d looked at were at least $100,000 more than we had, and each one disappointing in some major way. The first house we saw had no closets, and things only got worse from there. We had signed a contract on one house and purchased new appliances to upgrade the kitchen, but a week later the owner decided not to sell and backed out of the contract. That left us with $5000 worth of appliances sitting in storage with no house to put them into... My husband’s new company rented us a house for one month, but what they didn’t realize was the owner of the house had rented it every weekend to “leaf peepers.” Friday nights we packed up and moved back to the hotel; on Sunday nights we moved back to the rental, where I washed dirty dishes, sheets and towels, cleaned the bathroom, and vacuumed before we could even unpack.

With no permanent address, we couldn’t enroll our son in school. I didn’t want to start him in one school, then move him to another in weeks or months. He felt uprooted enough! Then my husband found a condo we could rent in November in the town where we hoped to settle, so I met with the principal to convince him to let our son start school. We’d moved from a metropolitan area where our son’s school was ethically diverse to a tiny pocket of rural New England. A friend from our home church glowingly described their new home in Connecticut as a “Leave It to Beaver” neighborhood, and I drank in the hope that our new town would be the same. But during the first week in his new school, a girl in our son’s class announced, “You’re from somewhere else. That makes you different, so we aren’t going to be your friends.” And that’s how the school year went. Our son, the befriender of the outsider, the compassionate kid who made hurting children feel accepted, was now an outcast and devastated. Every day I drove him to the small school nestled in the lovely valley, and every day he battled rejection and tried to make a friend.

So I sat rocking on that cold curb, anticipating mountains of cleaning on Sunday night, everything I loved stripped away from me, every hope for happiness seemingly strangled, and wept bitterly. Through sobs I looked up and cried, “God, I can’t do this! Please send us back home!”


“If only . . . .” I whispered, “If I could see a purpose . . . . I could live with all of this if there was a reason.”

At our 10,000-member home church I wrote books with the senior pastor and led groups in a vibrant women’s ministry; our son loved the lively, creative Sunday School program. Now we were looking for any Bible-believing church. Earlier that week I’d called the pastor of yet another congregation to get directions to his church. “No,” he replied to my questions, “we don’t have a women’s ministry or a youth group. My sons and one other boy are the only children in the church older than preschoolers.” Most of the church’s 60 members were college students.

“Oh, great,” I thought ruefully as I picked myself up off the curb in the gathering dark and my mounting gloom, “I told him we’d visit. Now we’ll have to go through with it just out of courtesy.”

Sunday we took our seats on folding chairs at a local library. An older couple behind us tapped our shoulders, introduced themselves, and said, “We’d love for you to come to our house for lunch after church.” Our son’s eyes met mine, silently pleading, “Please, no – can’t we go to MacDonald’s?” But we accepted. It couldn’t hurt to meet people who were friendly!

Loretta and Dana were gracious and genuine. Over lunch in their kitchen, my husband mentioned that he worked for a Japanese-owned firm. Loretta said their son had worked in Japan. Thinking for a moment, she added, “I know a Japanese woman here who’d like to be in a Bible study, but she’s uncomfortable with her English. Her husband works here, so she comes for three months, then returns to Japan for three months. I think,” she added, "they live in the town where you’ll be living next month. Would you be willing to have a Bible study with her?” At least it would give me something constructive to do, so I took the woman’s phone number.

I had no idea I was poised on the brink of a miracle.

“Coincidentally” this woman lived in the complex we’d soon move into. In fact, Hiroko lived two buildings down, and her husband was president of the company my husband worked for! “Coincidentally” we’d visited the church I wanted no part of, in front of the couple who could connect me with Hiroko and my miracle of purpose. Hope rushed in as a door opened for me into new understanding. Now I knew why the contract fell through on the house we bought appliances for! I knew why we were renting a too-small condo. I knew we had a church home. I knew God had a purpose for me and meaning for this move!

Incredibly, God moved us across the country to answer the prayer of a woman from the other side of the world. Hard as it was for our son and me, we were answers to prayer. God’s hand was in every detail of this move, and if that was true, his goodness was there for our family.

This foreign land for both Hiroko and me became a place of miracles. The next year our son made good friends at the regional junior high who didn’t know he was from “somewhere else.” We found a house with closets. I helped start a women’s ministry with precious friends who became like family.

God’s miraculous answer to my anguished cry on the curb of the Howard Johnson's was not to send me home, but to plant my heart in the purpose he had for me in a new home. This, too, is God's character: he gives our lives meaning that gives our lives joy, no matter who or where or in what circumstance we are. Not all miracles of healing involve your body. Some miracles – perhaps the most powerful and lasting - heal your heart. That healing is God's heart for you today.

"For I know the plans that 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

A " . . . but . . ." to pray:

God, I've misjudged you when I have only seen difficult circumstances, not the potential for meaning, purpose and miracles even in difficult situations. Sometimes you are hard to discern, BUT I believe and delight that you love to make me an answer to prayer and give my life meaning and purpose that make even hard places and circumstances become places of blessing. You are great, and you are good! Amen!


Your own " . . . but . . ." to move:

God, I look around me and see _____________________ in my life, not goodness, BUT I know you long to use me to answer the cry of someone's heart, and I know in being that answer, I'll __________________________ and you'll fill and strengthen my heart, too.

(Read more of Rose's blogs at www.rospiration.blogspot.com.)

A Moving Story from Penny in Colorado

Penny in Colorado

Every village, town, and city needs a ‘Moving On’ Class...


My first contact with Just Moved! was about 6 years ago. My husband had just retired and we were relocating to Knoxville, TN. Our middle son had moved there and we looked at this as an opportunity to get to know [our grandchildren] on a more personal level and add four additional helping hands. Because the move was our choice, not a corporate move, and all the doors had opened wide for us to make the move, I was quite dismayed that I was feeling lost, depressed, lonely, and sad.


We found a church home quickly, got involved in a class, and then I met the Women's Ministry Leader over a cup of tea. She had no idea what I was feeling, but asked if I would like to read a book that had recently been given to her and then pray about being involved in getting a new Bible Study started. I thought that the church already had ample women's studies going, but agreed to read the book. That evening as I read After the Boxes Are Unpacked: Moving On After Moving In from cover to cover, I thought, "I am not crazy, other women feel like I do. It's normal to feel this way after a move, even a happy move. How much more it must affect women who have no choice."

I eagerly accepted the challenge to help begin a new ‘Moving On’ Class at our church, Cedar Springs Presbyterian. While I was in the office of the Women's Ministry Leader, she remembered that a lady from another church had emailed her about joining with us. That began a special friendship with Linda, who became the co-leader with me in starting the first ‘Moving On’ Class in Knoxville.

During the 6 years that we lived in Knoxville, I led ‘Moving On’ classes twice a year. God brought such an abundance of lovely Christian women to help with the class. We all loved being part of the ministry that probably saw over 150 women go through the class.

I marvel at how well the class has continued to flourish, as God brought all the right women to keep it going. Plus there are two other sister classes that have started from the original class.

Then God moved us again, this time to Colorado. I found a ‘Moving On’ class here in Colorado and have been blessed by being in a group with 10 other women from all over the world. I know that God is moving me in the direction of being more involved by leading a class soon.

You never know where you will find yourself, but every village, town, and city needs a ‘Moving On’ Class.

How I praise the Lord for Susan and the wonderful staff at Just Moved! who see the vision and have passed it on to so many of us movers.

May God continue to use this ministry all over the world for many years.

A Moving Story

Beth
Spouse of a Navy Chaplain

God prepares the way...

In 1993, my husband left a small, rural congregation as their pastor to serve the military as a chaplain. He had been serving for several years in the reserves, but it was something that he "went off and did" and I had little understanding of the military world. He was called to active duty suddenly, and in just 2 weeks, we moved to Gulfport, Mississippi, and he was sent to Japan for 7 months. There I was in the Navy Lodge with two toddlers, and I needed to find a house to rent, get a new job, learn a new city, and figure out military life on my own! I felt like a tornado had just set down on my cozy life, but I was looking to the Lord to guide my steps and excited about the path He had planned.

I was given a tip on a house and decided to drive over and see the neighborhood and the house from the outside. It was very early in the morning, so I would not have considered calling at that hour. I found it easily, and pulled into the driveway when suddenly the door opened, and a woman emerged in a housecoat to put her trashcan by the road. I didn't want to startle her, so I waved and she came right over. We "hit it off" and talked for about 15 minutes about...well, I have NO idea what we talked about, but I just remember she was warm, kind, and enthusiastic.

Finally, she apologized because she was sure she knew me, but couldn't remember my name or what association we had. I laughed and explained that we didn't know each other...but we did have a connection...the Lord! (In the course of the conversation, we realized we were both Christians.) As it turned out, she and her husband were leaving the military so he could go to seminary.

Also, she was a Spanish teacher for a Christian school, grades K-8th grade. I had a degree in elementary education with a specialty in Spanish! Many of the teachers at the school were military wives, too, so I had a natural support group! There was even a day care so my children could be near me. It was PERFECT!

So...I moved into her home AND into her job...and she and I both marveled at God's ability to "make our paths straight."
_________________________________

A Moving Story from Gaye

Gaye in Florida

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.
- Isaiah 40:28 -31

One major move in particular was hard for our children. Our twelve-year-old son, Nathan, broke into tears when we settled in to a hotel room for the night, between our old home in Tennessee and new home in Florida. I asked, “What’s the matter?” Sobbing as though his heart was breaking he said, “Andrew was the best friend I ever had.”


My heart was feeling his pain. None of the family was happy about the move but we were on our way to a new life in Florida as my husband’s job demanded. We always relied on God as our source and knew because of that, that we would make another life and new friends eventually.


Our new home was under construction so we had to wait it out in an apartment. We were in tight quarters, on each other’s nerves and, soon after we moved there, we got the news that my mother had cancer. We flew up to Detroit to spend some time with mom and the family when she had surgery to remove the tumor from her stomach. The prognosis was not good and she had a short time to live; needless to say we were all filled with grief at the news.

We were sitting talking on mom and dad’s front porch when a van drove past the house up the side street where I grew up. Nathan looked up and his eyes locked with the eyes peering from the van. The van came to a stop and out jumped Andrew! We could not believe our eyes as the two ran to each other and the scene unfolded. Andrew and his family were in Detroit visiting too and just detoured from the main road for no apparent reason. They had no idea we were in town, or for that matter, where I had grown up, but God did and he cares about the things that concern us!

The boys had a lot of catching up to do and Nathan was just ecstatic with this little miracle. Andrew was able to stay with us the rest of the day and overnight. We have never forgotten how God cared enough about a young boy’s broken heart to orchestrate a surprise meeting with his beloved friend, Andrew. Just a reminder that the details of our life do matter to Him.