Find part one of this post Staircases & Big Steps here.
In 2009 we took a big step of faith, leaving what we hoped would be our “forever” home in Portland to move to a small town in Washington and start a church. The Inspired Room began modestly eight years earlier in our 1930s English Tudor in Portland. For the past six years we’ve lived in Washington, running The Inspired Room and serving the church, but the transition was not easy at first.
Portland had been home and the move separated our family. We had to leave our middle daughter Courtney behind to finish school; our oldest daughter Kylee was in college in Oregon; and our son came with us without his sisters. We arrived knowing almost no one. We worked hard to rebuild our life, find our footing, and create a new home. After several years of effort, we finally feel settled.
Eventually both daughters moved to Washington to attend school (YAY), but they live in Seattle, more than an hour away (BOO). Having them close enough to visit was a blessing, even if those visits were limited. Today, much has changed. Courtney and I now work full time together on The Inspired Room, which is a joy, though she still lives over an hour away and relies on the ferry. Commuting by ferry is beautiful, but the time, cost, and logistics can drain creative energy and cut into the hours we could spend collaborating.
Kylee and her husband work full time at Amazon and want to help us, but their schedules make regular collaboration difficult. While it’s normal for kids to go to college, marry, and create separate lives, there’s something deeply rewarding about having family nearby when you genuinely enjoy being together. We sacrificed much to move here, and now, six years later, we long for spontaneous weeknight dinners, impromptu home projects, and easy weekend outings for coffee or shopping.
Beyond everyday conveniences, we also feel a tender sadness that our son didn’t grow up closer to his sisters for much of his childhood. Miraculously, despite the distance and travel across the water, all three children — and Kylee’s husband Lance — have remained close. Their bond has blessed our son’s life, allowing them to spend meaningful time together despite the difficulties of distance.
Our son grew up here, changing from an adorable eight-year-old to a fourteen-year-old. His childhood seems to have passed in an instant. Now, finishing eighth grade and about to start high school in the fall, we realized that although he’s spent the last six years here largely as an “only child,” we could give him four more years of closer sibling time if we moved to Seattle.
OH MY HEART. When my husband and I really considered how a move closer to our daughters could affect our son’s daily life, it became clear there was no other choice. As a mother, I want these next four years to be filled with sibling connection. Our daughters share that wish. The thought of more ordinary, meaningful moments together — homework sessions, quick dinners, weekend plans — made the decision feel essential.
I love our current home and had hoped to stay and enjoy it for years. The idea of leaving fills me with sadness. Still, a piece of our heart is missing here. If we take this leap and move, we know we can bring our family closer and rebuild that missing connection. That possibility gives me peace about the difficult choices ahead.
At first I worried whether our son would want to change schools. Moving and changing schools is hard for kids, even when the outcome is positive. We had him shadow a new school to see how he felt, and to my relief he liked it. One less fear to face.
Moving to Seattle will not be without stress. The housing market is expensive and competitive, and affordability is a real concern. We want to be within a 15-minute drive of the girls, and we’ve narrowed our neighborhood options with that in mind, but what kind of house will fit our budget? That uncertainty is daunting.
Another major shift will be how we balance church and family life. Our church is here and my husband plans to continue pastoring. If we move, he would commute for meetings and Sunday responsibilities while the girls and I spend more time together during the week growing the business. We would still be committed to our church family. The Puget Sound commute can be challenging, but the ferry ride offers a peaceful, beautiful window of time, which helps.
What eases my anxiety is remembering that this move is about more than a house or a neighborhood — it’s about choosing family. That goal makes the sacrifice and uncertainty worthwhile. We don’t know exactly where we’ll land or what our new home will look like, and we aren’t imagining anything grand. We simply trust that wherever we go, we can turn any house into a home and that the time spent together will be the reward.
There is more to share about this journey, and I’ll save those stories for later. I’ll be sharing the feelings, challenges, and little victories that come with leaving this home and starting anew. For now, thank you for reading and for being part of so many of my house adventures. Your support means the world to me.