I love this picture of my kids. It represents for me joy, contentment and simplicity. I try to get us all together once a week to hike and explore in a local wild place. On Sunday, we hiked at Torrey Pines State Reserve. We took the beach trail down the cliff ravines to the open and shining shore where we explored the tide pools.
I've always considered the Pacific as a friend to our family. Here in this photo, its nurturing presence brings together two 20-year-olds with siblings ages 14 and 12 — all around soft sea plants, anemones and crabs in the intertidal zone. Initially, the kids fan out and discover wonders of their own, but inevitably I find them curiously gathered around something together.
Moments like these fill my heart with gratitude. It's one of the things I love most about life — seeing people enjoying the beauty around them. That especially brings me joy as a mother.
It also makes me reflect on how we came to be here in Southern California nearly four years ago. Life has so many unexpected paths, and this was one I never imagined taking. Four years ago at this time, we were living in Northern Minnesota where my husband Dan and I grew up. It was good to be living near our extended family for the first time since we were married and had children, as all other years were spent living in Connecticut, Washington and Oregon. We thought we would be in Minnesota to stay and put down our own roots. But after six years, we were sensing a shift.
Dan had been traveling often to Southern California for client work, and he anticipated a lot more of that travel. At the same time, we were all ready for a change. The opportunity for that change was presenting itself in a practical way. It seemed it was time to move on. The West Coast, where all our kids were born, was calling to us. The Pacific was calling to us.
The summer and fall of 2017 were bittersweet in many ways. So much of my work was coming together, and events I had envisioned for years were now becoming a reality. I was integrated in the community and involved in many personally-fulfilling endeavors. Our family enjoyed meaningful family and friend relationships and connections in our small town. I was also singing and playing guitar in a band that I formed, and that was the fulfillment of five years of waiting.
But there were shadows too. Our teen daughters were struggling very much, because of abuses our family had suffered in a toxic situation we had to walk away from a few years previously. There were still reverberations and persecutions with it, and it weighed very heavily at times — even though we sought support and healing through prayer, counseling, relationships, scriptures and honest conversations in our home.
Everything converged as we saw a need for a fresh start coupled with Dan's upcoming frequent travels to California. Keeping our family together as much as possible has always been a high priority and relocating together was the answer. Amazingly, everything fell into place with the business aspect. Dan's employer recognized the need for a local representative in the growing Southern California engineering consulting market. They agreed to move us.
It was a hard topic to approach in telling our families and friends. They were surprised and disappointed, and some were upset. But they also knew we had moved many times, and we always focused on staying connected with them wherever we lived. They also understood the desire to keep our family together in living near Dan’s client locations — instead of his being separated from us with travel.
Another difficult part was finding the right house and community for our big family, where Dan could also work from home. We essentially had our pick on the map, as long as it was within the radius of client locations. We decided on a mountain community after a house-hunting trip. But in our last days in Minnesota as the packing and moving team was loading the truck, we would learn of major structural issues with the house and cancel our offer. The harsh reality dawned: we were leaving and we had nowhere to land. The moving truck left our house for another client’s load before heading west, and we had no destination address to give them.
On December 16, the day after our going-away party, where we saw many loved ones and I played with my band for the last time, we pulled away with two cars completely full — all six of us, our dog Cheerio, four pet fish, a small jungle of house plants, utter exhaustion and a sadness/hope that we had no place to live, but that it would become clear as we ventured toward California.
The weeks had been intense before leaving with so much downsizing, detail-tending, goodbyes, events, cleaning and arranging renters for our house that was not yet sold. It was good to have time on the road to just drive and process. We were quite the sight each cold, winter night as we pulled into a hotel — weary family, nervous dog and a cart full of plants and fishbowls. Quite the quirky and comical caravan. We did have to laugh at ourselves. Sometimes strangers laughed with us.
But we were doing it! We were journeying to our new home state and trusting God for the provisions along the way — much like another family had done many centuries before in our Christmas tradition. There were signs and angels along the way, as we gradually shed the heaviness of the goodbyes and the uncertainty before us. A few days into our journey in Oklahoma City, I took Cheerio for a morning walk and spied a cardinal. I looked up its symbolism and was cheered: hope and renewal.
When I joined my family for breakfast in the hotel, Monica, the manager, was greeting guests and passing out gifts to the kids. She was warm and encouraging, and her positive energy encircled us in light. She openly admired our journey and bravery. We needed that kindness and interaction; it buoyed us up. Back in our room, Dan and I got to work checking on housing and handling myriad moving details. Our daughter, Isabelle, was also on her computer. She widened her search, as it was becoming clear there was no place for us in the mountain community, “no room in the inn” for us.
Getting to it, she found a spacious and light-filled house for rent in Murrieta. We were all cautiously excited, as it even had a pool! We apprehensively applied online and waited as we continued on our journey. We learned the next day that we were chosen as the new renters from a group of applicants. Things were aligning for us! We now had the date of December 22nd to reach our new home.
As we made our way south and west, our layers would peel off, both in winter wear and in stress. We knew we had a place to land! Our energy began to shift more toward hope and renewal.
We were also relieved to inform our movers that we had an address. Our goods wouldn't be delivered until after Christmas, but now we knew they had a place to go. We also learned that miraculously our load weight was 14,920 pounds — just 80 pounds under the limit that Dan’s company had agreed to pay for. We had down-sized our household goods by at least half, but we couldn’t have known the weight until the truck made it to the scales. Incredible!
We would arrive in Murrieta on December 22nd to meet Xan, the owner, a lovely woman. She and her husband had just bought the house and wanted it rented for Christmas. She had Christmas decorations, a poinsettia and a card prepared for us. It was a warm welcome that we never expected. Again God put an angel in our path, someone the Spirit had prepared weeks before to meet our needs.
We had the sweetest and simplest Christmas that year in an empty house in a new community, but we filled it with happiness, thankfulness, togetherness, music and good food. We will always remember it as a time of deep relief and joy. We had never imagined we would land in a place so abundant.
And here I sit, four years later still marveling at the faithfulness of God to provide so beautifully for us in our vulnerability and hope as we traveled westward. I relay our Christmas journey story, because it's meaningful for me and also to reflect on the faith journey, both literally and figuratively. Sharing it always refreshes my heart and reminds me that it's worth it to step out into the unknown — even with the daunting responsibility of providing for a family that can tempt us to stay parked in whatever situation we find ourselves. For me, my marriage and my family have always been what I call “my first church”, my highest priority for community, health and involvement. I’ll do anything to keep that sacred.
Looking back, Dan and I could see our family was fractured and wounded by forces on the outside, and we needed a safe and healing place where we could live simply and reorient ourselves together. Paradoxically, that place ended up being Southern California, one of the busiest, most densely-populated areas on the continent. But that's how God works so often — using the unexpected to meet our deepest needs.
Today I look at this photo of my kids spontaneously gathered around the simple wonders of nature in the sunshine with the ocean’s soothing waves nearby, and I'm full of gratitude and deep peace. We've healed and come together a lot here, during much uncertainty. And we continue to heal, learn, grow and undo old patterns. California has been very good to us.
One more thing to share before I end: Dan and I were touched by the film King Richard recently. It's an inspiring story of parents resolving to fight for their family in the face of racial disparity, violence and oppression. If you want to be moved by the love of family and the perseverance of hope and change, go see this story about the Williams family (of Venus and Serena Williams tennis fame). The parents Richard and Brandy had hearts of fire to protect their kids from the traps laid before them in the streets of Compton. Together, they left for a new life and succeeded beautifully.
I pray blessing and peace over all of you as you consider your paths in this reflective time of year — looking back on past provisions of light and hope. Considering the Grace that surrounds you today and knowing always that God is with us, Emmanuel, drawing us to the Light of Truth and Love.
Beautiful story. Thank you Jen for sharing. Lauralyn
I love this true-life tale of your trust and faith! Such a guided journey to reflect upon for you.