I’ve always dreamed of finding a forever house. That longing has often clashed with my pursuit of the perfect house first. I’m a devoted house lover—you’ve probably noticed by now.
A few months ago my parents sold our family beach house. It had been in our family for most of my kids’ lives, and we spent nearly every spring, summer, and winter vacation there on the Oregon coast. We thought it would be our forever family home, but as life unfolded, my parents decided it was time to move on.
We were sad to see the beach house go, but one small treasure we kept was the brass telescope. Our kids used it to scan the ocean for whales. Often they’d spot a distant shape and become convinced it was a sea creature. After peering through the lens, they usually discovered the “whale” was actually a rock, but the excitement and imagination were real—WHALES!
I love having that telescope in our family room now. It’s not only a reminder of those beach days, but it also symbolizes how we search for home and happiness and where we ultimately find them.
Moving has been a recurring part of our life—sometimes for better, sometimes for harder. The experience can range from joyful to exhausting, and so many emotions come with finding a new home. Leaving Portland six years ago was difficult; starting over in a new place, not knowing anyone and beginning a church was challenging yet filled with the excitement of new beginnings.
Saying goodbye to the beach house was hard, but what a blessing it was to have it for so long. The memories remain, and it served our family well.
Transitions and moving are rarely simple. Letting go of a home that holds memories is tough, even when the move is positive. Staying put when you crave new adventures can be discouraging too. Yet there’s a thrilling side to starting fresh—dreaming and watching new possibilities take shape is energizing.
But if we only view our life through a long-range telescope—either peering backward at what was or constantly gazing toward an idealized future—we risk missing the value of the present. When our perspective is off, things can feel fuzzy. Choosing the right lens for the moment makes all the difference. Looking back helps us learn lessons for better choices ahead. Imagining possibilities can provide clarity and focus, as long as our hearts stay grounded in what truly matters now. And if you’re like me, you might keep a pair of binoculars in your car, just in case your dream house appears around the next corner. 
I still think having a forever house would be wonderful, even a humble one, but life can shift quickly and bring new adventures. That’s the beauty of home: it follows you, shapes you, and remains a part of you wherever you go.
Our home will shape and transform our lives for the better if we love it well, whether it becomes our forever home or remains a temporary place we always remember.
I’m excited to share my new book with you tomorrow as it releases! I’ll have surprises, chances to share what you love about your home, and inspiring stories from friends. I hope you’ll join the launch celebration.
Let’s have a virtual book launch party—I’ll bring the cookies and brew the coffee! If you signed up to help promote the book, I’ll invite you to the group today.
Meanwhile, let’s talk about how moving feels—the good, the hard, the messy, and the adventurous. Share your house-hunting and moving stories in the comments! <3
(And before you go, check out Home Love Stories for international house-hunting tales and inspiring home stories from people around the world.)