No, I’m not a musician.

Moving Across Country Isn’t What It Seems

Four months ago my wife and I put a lock on our storage cube, walked out of our home for the last time, buckled our kids safely in our car and moved across the country. We sold as much of our stuff as we could and shipped what we felt were the necessities to plant our life on new soil. We left our families [I am a, “my friends are my family” kinda guy]. We looked at each other during one moment of our 3 day journey and said, “this shit is crazy… what in the hell are we doing?”

A handful of times since making the move we’ve looked at each other with the same look and have asked the same question, because the truth is that neither of us are really happy here. Trust me, I understand that just because I’m a white American male doesn’t mean that I’m owed happiness, but I’m typically not great at going through the motions.

We have been searching for purpose, for people, and for peace in our hearts. I wish I could say that I’ve handled this move well, or in a way that would make my Christian friends congratulate me, but if I’m being honest, I probably haven’t.

In AZ I was connected to my COV, my table, the people who make moments worth experiencing. I was leading people in a pastoral kind-of way. My income was slowly increasing. My wife & kids were connected to their family [which is very important for them]. But I felt stuck & my Mrs. wanted to experience seasons. Now that we’re in Tennessee, I can admit that I’ve had to take a really honest look at my heart, and figure out what in the hell I’m going to do with my life and how am I going to lead my family.

I’m not a stranger to new places or new experiences, and I sure as shit am not new to adventure, but this is a battle unlike any other. I didn’t really have boundaries growing up; I was able to basically do anything I wanted, which gave me an itch for denying normal. At 25 I picked up and moved to Austin, TX but had to move back when my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. At 28 after also losing my dad and ending an engagement I sold everything, including my beloved Scion xB and moved to Malaga, Spain to be a part of a beautiful community called G42. After 6 months in Spain I moved to Flagstaff, AZ [and honestly I regret ever leaving]. At 29 I moved to OKC where I was agreeably let go from a pastoral position because I was told I couldn’t drink in public. At 30 I moved from OKC back to PHX where I finally got my queen, who I’ve had an eye on since 2001. And now, at 33 I’m living in Nashville… with no church home, no community, no hobbies — but I am for the first time taking steps towards our future rather than tap dancing in this moment.

The toughest part about moving across the country is the reality that you don’t leave anything behind, except the people you love and worse, your worst traits, expectations & depravity follow along.

Taking the time to write this was more of an exercise in honesty than anything else, but let me leave you with this. In these moments of loneliness, confusion, and maybe even depression, please allow it to encourage change [which may take some time] rather than bury you deeper into your own personal misery.

Cheers,
DG