A number of you have asked me to share more about our transition from Southern California to Dallas, TX. Welp, consider this part 1.

For years—I mean, I’m talking 6-7 years, Dave would bring up/dream talk about moving to Idaho or Texas (various good friends can confirm this because they live in those places and lovingly wanted us to join them 😀). Dave’s naturally better at dreaming than I am–down the line chats–big picture–he’s great at it. I’m more in-the-moment, the realist, the queen of logistics; It can be hard to pluck me out of the here and now (I’m working on it–promise). And anytime he would start these dream talks, I’d get pretty anxious and even start to cry; even the thought of moving would jostle me into a tizzy of too many feelings. I didn’t want to leave Santa Barbara—or on a bigger scale, I didn’t want to leave all the familiarity of Southern California (my whole life…all my family, friends, my people…my history). I didn’t want the kids to be away from their grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins, etc…

A part from the friends we had in those places, there was ZERO pull for me as far as wanting to live in either of those states.  I mean, ZERO (for emphasis, I’m actually saying that in Spanish).

Fast forward to the end of 2018. Dave and I both sensed that our time in Santa Barbara was wrapping up: The season was coming to a close, and we were actually OK with that (don’t get me wrong–we were sad about the transition and what that would mean to leave a place we called home for almost 7 years, but we were big picturing for our fam) and were looking forward to dreaming about and starting a new chapter for our family. The only trouble was, we didn’t know where we would do that. We were out one night while staying at my folks’ house with boba in hand walking into a Target (I know–talk about the perfect combinationanyone else hear angels singing?). Well apparently the terrific trifecta of drinking my favorite drink and walking around in one of my favorite retail stores with my favorite person was all we needed to decide that we’d move to Santa Clarita to live with my folks for a stint while we figured out our next steps.

We asked my parents if they’d be cool with us moving in, and they supported the decision. Looking back, we should have probably had a far more detailed conversation and asked a lot of questions and set up more boundaries and expectations, but hey–you live and you learn. Sometimes, you just learn things in a messier fashion **insert nervous laugh here**.

It would not be difficult to turn this next little bit into separate blog posts, but I’ll try and keep it brief. We moved in with my parents thinking we’d be there indefinitely and potentially save up for a house purchase (Where? We had no idea. But that was where our heads were.) Remember when I said earlier that we should have had a more lengthy convo with my parents about moving in with them? Well, we didn’t. And some poop hit the fan.

Some context: We love my parents. We love their home. We love the safe place it’s been for us ever since Dave and I have been together. We love how amazing my parents are with the kids. See a trend here? There’s a lot of love. But sometimes that’s just not enough.

Let me paint you a picture: My parents have been empty nesting for a long time, and my dad has a military background, so he loves his environment as clean as a whistle and as fit as a fiddle. Insert dose of major reality here: We had two kids under 3 when we moved in with them. Tidyness wasn’t the name of the game. And both Dave and I had projects/jobs that we were working on from home, so there were a lot of things going on to say the least. This was an area of struggle for us, and it just became the itch we couldn’t scratch. We had some tougher conversations with my folks and decided it was best for us to move out; we all knew this would be the best decision for the sake of all of our relationships. I’m giving the short and sweet version of this as there are just things that need need to be shared publicly: But I am here to say that I was so proud of all of us for practicing good confrontation skills and pursuing reconciliation with one another. That was huge for all of us. High five, Phamily!

The morning after our reconciliation talk, I woke up with the strangest feeling. Nope, it wasn’t gas in case that’s what some of you were guessing. I was enveloped by this deep feeling of peace and excitement. For what you ask? For moving to Texas. It wasn’t God’s audible voice, but it was that still small one that I just have come to know over the years. I was so weirded out by how how felt considering I was usually the one adamantly fighting the thought when Dave or our friends would dip their toes in the moving out of state convo. Holy crap. We’re moving to Texas. Knowing this was beyond bizarre. This was not my doing in the slightest. This was God doing a major work in my heart. The posture of my heart had completely shifted, and I was so curious to see how God would make all of this happen. It was so weird that I couldn’t tell Dave right away. I needed to sit in this one for a bit.

Now this all might sound random and sudden, but you have to keep in mind that we were praying for clarity and vision for what to do next as we were living with my parents. The only thing that we weren’t accounting for was that our time there was going to be shorter than the vague, indefinite amount of time that we had slapped onto our plans-ish when we moved from Santa Barbara. How’s that for adulting? =p

Here’s where the story gets saucier. A day after I wake up with this KNOWING, my friend Ashley text messages me and says that flights to Dallas are on sale and that Dave and I should come out and visit. THAT SAME DAY–one of Dave’s best friends who lives in Texas texts him (within the hour that Ashley texted me) and said–YUP!!! You guessed it! Flights to Dallas are on sale, and you and Liz should visit. When Ashley said that to me, I wasted no time to tell Dave and all the “What’s going on?” questions started zipping around our heads as this was all playing out.

Alright, so I guess we’re doing this is what was in my head: Our friends on the same day, within the same hour told us about these on sale flights. I basically already knew with all the peace in the world that we were going to move (creesssy). Now it was my turn to wait and see how the Lord would work on Dave’s heart to help him catch up and come to this decision on his own cuz I sure as heck wasn’t about to twist his arm on such a big decision (I had no doubt that God would do it. He’s all about unity in a marriage, so it was just a matter of waiting). Side note: Is anyone else who’s married experienced something like this before? Where you flip flop on ideas or decisions–one person starts really excited, the other person jumps on board, and the jumping on boardness subsequently starts to freak out the person who was initially excited? Yeah, that was this for us.

We bought our tickets to head out to Dallas about a week and a half before Christmas and were calling it our scouting trip. Some people knew we were scouting, and others didn’t. We didn’t want to prematurely stir any curiosity or premature sadness pots, na mean? But this was real now.

To be continued.