This is probably a really ironic blog post to be writing right now. At the moment, I’m preparing to head into a completely new season where I will be living in North Carolina for 6 months. This is the first time I leave Los Angeles for any extended period of time and I don’t know what to expect.

“How do you feel about your trip?” — a question that’s come up at least once a day over the last month, a question to which I’ve had a wide array of answers:

“I’m excited!”

“I’m scared…”

“It’s actually really bittersweet…”

“I can’t wait to go…”

“Actually, am I doing the right thing in going?”…

I probably had the most honest conversation about it with my soon to be brother-in-law, Dano.

“I’m honestly really sad to leave, I love my community here and I’m really excited about everything we’re doing. I can feel joy and an invitation from the Lord to go, but it feels so bittersweet to leave home and the amazing people I get to see everyday.”

I felt a little guilty being sad, I wasn’t sure if being anything less than excited about leaving meant that maybe I shouldn’t be going at all? But his response surprised me and gave me something I didn’t realize I needed: permission to hold the sadness of leaving something behind and the joy of starting something new at the same time, space to embrace endings and beginnings simultaneously.

He said, “Whoa. It’s actually really good that you’re feeling sadness about leaving, I think it means you really cherished this season… I think it shows you you’re not running away, you genuinely love this place.” And that’s when I realized it was true: I really do love this place. I love home and my church and my friends. At the same time I realized, you don’t have to hate where you are to go somewhere else.

You don’t have to despise the place you were to be excited about where you’re going.

In fact, at least for me, that meant it was really the right time for a change.

I was comfortable and settled into a groove, but sometimes Jesus is in the business of disrupting comfort for the sake of growth. He’s in the business of pruning and shaping so you and I can really unfold into the reality of the person He created us to be.

I don’t know much about plants, nor have I ever successfully kept one alive, but I’m pretty sure that in order to prune something it’s got to have a pretty good root system. You can prune a plant when it’s been thriving for a little because that’s when it’s finally ready for the next level of growth. 


Hence, learn to stay before you go. Grow some roots into the soil, build a home and grow your heart. Then, the pruning and the moving can happen. And I think that’s where I’m at right now: a season of pruning and moving. I love where I’ve been. I love my home and then friends I’ve grown with while being there. At the same time, I’m looking forward to the next season, to finding out just what I’m capable of and just how much goodness God has in store for me. It’s not so I can go and despise where I come from or all the places I’ve been up until this point, but to build on the foundation I already carry and develop the fruits of the root system I’ve been growing my whole life.

Thank you so much for joining me on this journey. My hope today is that you would find space for the joy and sadness of this season, that you would know God has room to hold both your laughter and your tears. Whether you’re rooted somewhere and find yourself settling into a regular rhythm, or your on the verge of a major life change: growth is happening everywhere, I hope you find the courage to dig your heels into whatever season you’re in and truly bloom where you are planted.