Lessons from Our Move: Part 2
When we first began praying about a cross-state move, my husband and I realized we approached the idea very differently. He preferred to keep things quiet while we researched and prayed, not wanting to cause confusion if the move didn’t happen—or to create unnecessary grief for friends and family. He also wanted to avoid misunderstandings with his business partner.
I, on the other hand, process by talking things out. I longed to invite trusted voices into the conversation early, rather than surprise people later. Neither of us was wrong—we simply process decisions differently. In the end, I chose to honor his desire for privacy while our plans were still tentative.
As things progressed and doors began opening quickly, I eventually shared our hopes with a few close friends. That proved harder than I expected. Some responses were painful. We come from a small faith tradition that places strong emphasis on staying near like-minded believers. Because there are no churches of that tradition in South Carolina, some friends worried we were abandoning our faith. A few even implied we were making a spiritual mistake.
Practical realities also shaped our decision. New Jersey’s cost of living had become overwhelming for our family of seven. We wanted our children to have a better chance at financial stability as they grew. South Carolina’s affordability felt like God’s provision, giving us space to finally pay off debt and build a more sustainable future. We believe God can provide anywhere, but we also believe He gives us wisdom and invites us to partner with Him in making thoughtful decisions.
Telling family was even more challenging. One relative went so far as to say we were “sacrificing our children on the altar of Molech,” referencing a Canaanite idol—his concern being that our daughter might one day sing on a worship team outside our tradition. Ironically, that has happened and has been a beautiful blessing. Our children now attend a Christian school with a variety of denominations represented, and I love seeing them learn to respect and appreciate different expressions of faith.
Not every reaction was negative. One dear friend—herself outside our tradition—walked alongside me daily, whether on neighborhood walks or during exercise. She loved Jesus deeply and offered encouragement without judgment. Her friendship was a gift when others turned away.
This season has stretched and saddened me. Some who claim to hold “the truth” have been unexpectedly harsh, and I’m still processing those wounds. Yet here in South Carolina we’ve met many believers who welcome us warmly and simply love Jesus, without trying to correct or contain us.
I don’t share any of this to disparage those in our former faith community. I love them and know many are sincere, doing what they believe is right. But I’ve learned that even among good people, culture and tradition can sometimes overshadow grace. I don’t know how we’ll be received when we visit, but I’m committed to loving well, no matter what.
When I look back on how we shared—or didn’t share—our moving plans, I see so many lessons about faith, relationships, and God’s gentle guidance. Here are a few that stand out.
1. Different isn’t wrong—just different
My husband and I process decisions in opposite ways. He preferred privacy until things were certain; I wanted trusted friends involved from the start. At first I felt tension, but I’ve learned that neither method is better. Honoring each other’s personalities helped us stay united, even when it stretched me.
2. Obedience can look confusing from the outside
Some friends and relatives viewed our move as a step away from faith because we weren’t staying within our small church tradition. Their concern came from love, but it reminded me that obedience to God may not always be understood—even by fellow believers. Sometimes faith looks like quietly following the doors God opens.
3. Stewardship is spiritual, too
Part of our decision was financial: New Jersey’s cost of living was unsustainable for our growing family. We believe God provides, yet we also believe He invites us to use wisdom and plan well. Choosing a place where our children could thrive financially was, for us, an act of stewardship and trust.
4. True friends love without conditions
One dear friend outside our tradition simply walked with me—literally and spiritually—without judgment. Her quiet companionship reminded me that love is the truest mark of a Jesus-follower, not perfect agreement on doctrine.
5. Grace goes both ways
I still love the people from our old faith community and know many are sincere. Some conversations have been painful, but I want to keep meeting them with grace when we visit. Love doesn’t mean we always see eye to eye; it means we keep our hearts open.
