(This post: We’re Moving Again—But This Time It’s Breaking My Heart, was written approximately six months ago and never published. Today (January 3, 2026), I decided to finally share it. Be sure to stay tuned to see what God does next. Lord knows, I’m curious too.)
Well, this is it.
The end of a chapter in our family’s life—gone in what feels like the blink of an eye. Nevertheless, life goes on.
Yes, we’re moving again.
But unlike past moves that came with anticipation and excitement, this one is marked by grief, surrender, and deep love.
Called to Kids in Crisis
Three years ago, my husband and I made the boldest decision of our lives: we became houseparents at a girls’ home for orphaned and abandoned children.
Undoubtedly, God has always given us a heart for kids from hard places. We just didn’t know when—or how—that calling would come to life.
We had considered foster care and adoption many times, but there were always barriers keeping us from making that first step, like
- No support system
- Financial limitations
- Full-time jobs
- And honestly… fear
But as it turns out, God had a far more radical plan for us.
While I was busy trying to “figure it all out” and work around our obstacles, God was simply waiting on my surrender—waiting for me to lay down my timeline, my ideas, and my fear of the unknown.
And the moment I let go, He moved.
He did exceedingly and abundantly more than I ever could have imagined (Ephesians 3:20–21). His plan came like a bulldozer, leveling every barrier that stood between us and our calling—at just the right time.
We’re moving again: when Obedience Looks Like Letting Go of Everything
So, we quit our jobs.
Sold our home.
Packed up our lives.
And moved our family to another state to serve in full-time ministry.
So, here we were, feeling a lot like Abraham in Genesis 12:1.
We stepped into a house that wasn’t ours—filled with furniture we didn’t choose—and were entrusted with five more children overnight, going from two kids to seven.
Every one of these girls carried deep trauma and loss. They each brought different cultures, stories, and ways of coping to the table. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Even seemingly simple tasks became more difficult with a family of this size and dynamic! But despite this, God gave us grace, and His love fueled our strength.
I often think, this must be how the kids felt too—thrust into unfamiliar territory, surrounded by strangers trying to become family. How scared they must have been when they were told those very same words: we’re moving again.
The Pain and Purpose of Being a “Fill-In” Parent
Let me be real:
Being a stand-in parent is sacred… and it’s brutal.
If you’ve ever parented a child whose biological parents couldn’t—or wouldn’t—show up, you understand the heartbreak.
These kids love their parents deeply, no matter the pain. They crave the familiar, even when it hurts. So we gave them everything—and were rejected, again and again.
The first eighteen months nearly broke us.
But slowly…
Love won.
Walls fell.
Healing began.
We were finally able to see the rejection they projected on us came from great pain, fear, and an inability to see themselves as worthy of love. Not only that, but for them to love means being vulnerable and inevitably exposing their hearts to more pain. God was gracious enough to give us glimpses of redemption. And those moments made every tear, every fight, and every sleepless night worth it.
Burnout, Breakdown, and the Quiet Call to Step Away
But a ministry like this? It doesn’t come without cost. The love that God calls us to is deeply sacrificial, and it will always demand the most from us.
This kind of life is high-stress, high-energy, and emotionally exhausting. If there’s any unhealed trauma in your past, it will rise to the surface. Any weakness in your marriage will be exposed. When you are running on empty, it will show.
And that’s what happened.
The grace that sustained us at the beginning started to lift. We began counting the days to respite, running on fumes, desperate for rest.
God was calling us out. We didn’t want to accept it—but He required it. We were only called to be their parents for a season, and that is incredibly hard.
And so, the time came. It’s official. We’re moving again.
We packed our things. We said gut-wrenching goodbyes.
Our girls were placed with new families.
And just like that, we returned home—as a family of four.
WE’RE MOVING AGAIN, AND Starting Over—Again
This move is different.
It’s not about excitement.
It’s about trust.
Trusting God when the next step isn’t clear and when we don’t even feel ready for it.
Believing that the seeds we sowed will grow—even if we’re not there to see the fruit.
Having faith to believe that our obedience mattered, even when we don’t understand.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this wild, beautiful, painful journey with Jesus, it’s this:
He is always faithful.
I don’t know what’s next, but I know He’ll be there. And I’m choosing to thank Him—not just for what He will do, but for what He’s already done. Though we are walking away in pain, the growth we and our kids experienced on the journey will forever and always be worth the cost.
To Anyone Who’s Had to Let Go of a Calling
Maybe you’ve been there—called to something big, only to be called out just as your heart fully settled in. Maybe you’re grieving a ministry, a move, a relationship, or a mission. God doesn’t always grant us understanding, but His plan is always good, even when it hurts.
I see you.
God sees you.
Let this be your reminder:
The end of a chapter is not the end of your story. Be encouraged by this verse: “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28
So here we are—we’re moving again, and starting over, again.
Here I am humbly waiting with great expectancy to see what He does next.
If you enjoyed this post, you may enjoy my post on Living God’s Way In a World that Says You Can’t about deep and daily trust in the Lord.
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