Life has a peculiar way of presenting paradoxes. For us, it’s the strange reality of being technically without a home, yet simultaneously experiencing a profound sense of peace. It’s a contradiction that would, by all reasonable measures, lead to immense stress and panic. However, in defiance of logic, our recent, seemingly insane decision has propelled us into the happiest, most hopeful period we’ve ever known. It’s a journey steeped in faith, unexpected turns, and unwavering trust, proving that sometimes, the most irrational choices lead to the most profound peace.
The journey to this unique state began over a year ago, marked by countless questions and very few immediate answers. To truly understand our current situation – why we sold our cherished home with no immediate prospects for renting or buying, and how we found ourselves entrusting our future to real estate agents Paige and Whitney – we need to rewind. This entire adventure, full of twists and turns, surprisingly started with the whisper of Nashville.
The Inexplicable Pull to Relocate
For nearly three years, a persistent feeling had been growing within me: our time in Utah County was nearing its end. Each year, this conviction deepened, until by last fall, I was absolutely certain that it would be our final Christmas in that house. It wasn’t a logical conclusion or a result of any external event; it was a deep, intuitive knowing that had been cultivated over years of quiet listening. We were going to move, but the crucial question remained: where?
Our prayers became more fervent, more frequent, yet no clear destination emerged. Nothing felt definitively right. Then, last fall, a familiar opportunity arose for Cade to pursue a promotion. This wasn’t the first time; previous opportunities in this vein had never resonated with us. This time, however, it felt different – not just right, but certain. Suddenly, we were presented with a lengthy list of potential relocation sites, stretching from the sunny coasts of California to the historical landscapes of Pennsylvania, from the vibrant music scene of Nashville to the desert expanses of Nevada, with many intriguing possibilities in between. With this weighty list in hand, our family knelt in prayer once more.
While a long list of options might sound exciting, the truth is, the prospect of uprooting our family is a monumental decision, one we approached with utmost seriousness and humility. How does one choose a new home, a new community, for an entire family? It’s a terrifying, exhilarating, wonderful, and intimidating prospect all at once. We anticipated a clear answer, ready and willing to go wherever we were needed, wherever we could serve. Yet, the only consistent revelation was that we would indeed be leaving Utah County. The specific “where” remained elusive, a source of growing frustration that often teetered on the edge of discouragement.
Shifting Our Focus: A New Approach to Prayer
The feeling of being stuck in limbo, a state I find particularly challenging, became overwhelming. I confided in my mother during a temple visit with my parents, expressing my deep uncertainty about our path forward. It was then that a profound shift occurred in my prayer life. I decided to change my approach entirely.
Instead of constantly asking, “Show us where to go,” I began to pray for three specific things that ultimately made all the difference:
1. “Where do you truly need us? Not just where we might want to go, but where our contributions will be most impactful.”
2. “Instead of showing us the direct path, will you hedge up the way and clearly show us where *not* to go? Guide us by eliminating the wrong choices.”
3. “Please let this be an experience that deeply involves our entire family, changing us all for the better. Help us to grow closer to each other and to our Savior through this journey.”
Almost immediately, a significant door closed. Our secret hope for Colorado, a location we had quietly envisioned, was unexpectedly presented to another team member at Cade’s company. This should have brought crushing disappointment, but to my astonishment, I felt nothing of the sort. This lack of despair was a monumental sign in itself. Encouraged, I then set my heart on Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, a beloved lake spot that held many fond memories for me.
The Tennessee Connection and Unexpected Turns
The clarity we sought wasn’t long in coming. Almost as quickly as Idaho entered our thoughts, we received confirmation from Cade’s work: Idaho was not the place. We were back to the drawing board, navigating the labyrinth of life’s constant decisions. It’s a humorous realization, as an adult, that even mundane choices like dinner can feel overwhelming, let alone a life-altering relocation. Yet, with each option crossed off our expansive list, we felt a growing sense of direction, even as the final answer remained elusive, leaving a subtle undercurrent of unsettling anticipation.
After what felt like an interminable licensing test, Cade finally called from Arizona with the good news – he had passed! This breakthrough was the turning point that set the gears in motion. Our options narrowed significantly to two distinct paths: A) a move to Nashville, or B) remaining in his current role with the long-term prospect of taking over his boss’s building in Orem upon retirement. The prospect of Tennessee felt profoundly right, demanding a leap of faith and an embrace of trust. Just as we committed to this path, work delivered another unexpected directive: “Cade, we need you to find yourself a replacement.” This was a significant step, requiring an immediate response. Following a strong intuition, Cade felt compelled to call a friend. With a blend of immense trust and a touch of awkwardness, he posed the life-altering question: “By any chance, would you be interested in a major career change?” That conversation, a miracle in its own right, deserves its own story for another day.
With Cade making that pivotal call, Nashville officially became a tangible possibility. We announced our willingness to move, expecting further momentum, but instead, things went quiet from work. This sudden lull left us feeling confused and somewhat deflated. We were pushing forward, yet felt inexplicably stuck, caught in a waiting game we hadn’t anticipated.
Utah It Is: An Unexpected Homecoming
As a natural planner and a doer, someone who thrives on efficiency and freedom, feeling stuck is particularly challenging. While I’m not a rigid list-maker, I deeply value bringing things to fruition so I can then enjoy life’s moments. Tasks lingering unfinished make me feel constrained. This past year had been especially demanding, with Cade often away, leaving our daughter Peyton and me to largely navigate life together. Though still a child, Peyton’s maturity and readiness to step up were truly remarkable, setting a wonderful example for her younger siblings. It was a year that tested our resilience and strengthened our family bonds in unforeseen ways.
We had briefly believed Idaho was our destination, only to swiftly realize it wasn’t. My planner’s personality was learning, often through trial and error, to embrace fluidity. I’m immensely grateful now that I didn’t push harder for specific outcomes, because Cade’s work called with an astonishing update. Just as he was making arrangements for Nashville, the administrative position in Ogden, Utah, became available. They felt a strong conviction to keep us in Utah. And we accepted. It was an unexpected pivot, yet one that resonated deeply.
So, no California or Nevada. No Pennsylvania, Tennessee, or Idaho, nor any other state on our initial extensive list. We had been so convinced we were leaving Utah entirely. Yet, in a beautiful convergence of events, my dad finally found an important doctor in Salt Lake City in February. Our extended families, both mine and Cade’s, are predominantly in the West. It felt, in a strange and comforting way, that we were meant to be near them, or at least in the same general region. It was a realization that underscored the profound wisdom in our changed prayers – the guidance not just to a place, but towards where we were truly needed.
As one chapter of our daughters’ lives was concluding, another unexpected challenge was about to arise, requiring quick thinking from our youngest. Our house – the home we cherished – became the next focus of our faith-driven journey. And so, we embarked on the most unconventional decision: we sold our home with absolutely nowhere to go. There was no new house to buy, no specific city in mind to search, no rental property secured, and no family to move in with. Was it the biggest mistake of our lives? Absolutely not. I vividly remember rolling over in bed and whispering to Cade, “We felt it, right?” He whispered back with equal certainty, “Absolutely.” That shared conviction became our anchor in the unfolding storm.
The Urgency to Sell Immediately: A Leap of Faith
We are currently living in a moment that is simultaneously soul-stretching, confusing, miraculous, beautiful, and utterly insane. It is, quite simply, nuts. Cade’s new role would involve taking over the Pine View Transitional Rehab building in Ogden, Utah, making a move about an hour north absolutely essential. We began our house hunt that very week, a period already packed with school letting out, my preparations for my parents’ huge 50th-anniversary party, and my dad’s critical medical appointments. By all logical accounts, we should have been slamming on the brakes, slowing down to manage the multitude of demands. Instead, we were, and continue to be, enveloped by a profound “peace that passeth all understanding,” as described in Philippians 4:7.
Cade and I both felt an undeniable urgency and absolute clarity that we needed to sell our home immediately. It was overwhelming, deeply confusing, and defied all conventional wisdom, yet I had never before felt such a powerful, clear push. It was a directive from a higher source, demanding an immediate and complete leap of faith, even into the great unknown.
Claire Saves the Day: A Serendipitous Connection
The sheer volume of tasks and decisions hit me hard on the second night of this whirlwind. As Cade and I sat down, utterly exhausted, our daughter Claire returned home from a babysitting job. The weight of everything pressing down on me was palpable. I blurted out, “This is too much. We need the right real estate agent, and I don’t even know where to begin to find one!”
From the kitchen, Claire’s voice rang out with an unexpected solution: “Oh, Paige, the one I just babysat for, she’s a real estate agent!” Some might dismiss this as a mere coincidence, but we knew better. In that moment, it felt as if windows had been flung open, allowing the calmest, most reassuring breeze to settle over us. It was a tangible, palpable peace. This newfound serenity was crucial, because we were about to step into the craziest, most unexpected tornado of events, and Paige and her partner, Whitney Kimball, were the incredible guides who navigated us through it all. I cannot praise them enough. Seriously, save their contact information, because I would never sell a home without them again – and we’ve known many, many agents over the years.
In fact, they were about to accomplish the work of a hundred people in just three days, without a single word of instruction from us. This was a true blessing, as I was consumed with agony at home, waiting for news from my dad’s critical doctor’s appointment and making the final preparations for the anniversary party, now just a day away. It was a stark reminder of life’s fragile moments, prompting the somber question: when did we get old enough to face the sobering reality that our parents won’t live forever?
A Whirlwind of Activity and Trust
Despite not seeing a single house in Davis County that even piqued our interest, we pressed forward. This is the essence of moving with faith: when you feel a profound spiritual prompting, you begin to walk. You repeat to yourself, over and over, that you felt it, until all doubt dissipates. This is where you step into the metaphorical water with complete trust and stand still, allowing the path to unfold before you.
That Thursday and Friday were a blur of doctor’s appointments. On Saturday, an incredible outpouring of love from our neighbors rescued me; they sacrificed their entire day to be the most supportive friends, helping us host the most beautiful and heartwarming anniversary party for my parents. Meanwhile, Paige and her dedicated team were at our house, adding the final touches to stage it, preparing it perfectly for showing.
By Sunday, Cade and I both had a clear, undeniable feeling: the house needed to be listed immediately, that very week. Thursday was chosen as the target listing date. On Monday, Paige arranged for an exceptionally talented photographer to capture stunning images and create a virtual tour. This was quickly followed by a videographer, and the booking of a charming soda bar and an elaborate charcuterie spread for our open house on Saturday. We’ve been told countless times since that it was the best open house ever, a testament to the extraordinary efforts of Paige and Whitney. It was an absolute whirlwind, a testament to efficiency and synchronized effort!
More Than a Coincidence: A Divine Intervention
By Thursday at 10 AM, just four days after our decision to list, our home was officially on the market, and appointment requests to see the property began pouring in. The momentum was incredible. Then, on Friday, an unexpected knock came at the door. I found myself in an awkward predicament, standing there in a bathing suit, camera around my neck, hurrying to photograph a recipe before heading to the pool. There was no graceful way to manage the situation.
I’ve been teased a bit about this moment since, but I am telling you, and Whitney can verify this, I had the strangest, most powerful feeling that this was no mere coincidence. This unexpected, unscheduled drop-in was about to dramatically alter the trajectory of our entire summer.
A Guy at the Door: An Unscripted Showing
There I was, in my swimsuit, with my small photography table set up, bounce board in place, carefully styling raspberry white chocolate cookies for their photoshoot. Suddenly, Claire, with a hint of awkwardness, said my name, “Mom, there’s a guy at the door, and he wants to come in and see the house.” My immediate instinct, which I had to bite my tongue to suppress, was to say, “Well, he’ll need to call our agent.”
It wasn’t because I wanted to be difficult; it was simply a terrible moment. I had one last load of laundry churning, I was in the middle of a delicate food photography session, and all of us were in our swimsuits, poised to head to the pool the instant I finished with the cookies. It was just not a good time. Moreover, Claire’s friends were arriving, all eager to join us at the pool, and we needed to clear out so the scheduled appointments for house tours could begin. Our big open house was also planned for the very next day. It was utter chaos.
Yet, amidst this whirlwind of activity and unscripted mayhem, I was struck by the WEIRDEST feeling, a deep sense of knowing that transcended the immediate logistical challenges.
An Immediate Knowing: The Offer That Was Meant to Be
Our home had been listed for less than 24 hours, and we already had a pile of scheduled appointments. But as I rounded the corner to the front door, I looked at the man and woman sitting in their truck, and I simply *knew* they would buy our home. It was an undeniable, profound intuition. So, against all conventional wisdom, I let them in. Unannounced. Swimsuit and all. It was an act of pure faith, an impulse I couldn’t ignore.
Sure enough, by that very night, we had multiple offers, including theirs. And by Saturday evening, we were saying “yes” to the offer from the very couple I had instinctively felt would be our buyers. Looking back, especially during a subsequent moment when I truly fell apart and questioned everything – “Oh my gosh, what the heck did we do?!” – I realize how absolutely critical that initial feeling of certainty was. I would desperately need that reassurance about ten days later. Desperately.
We all try, don’t we? We try to trust what we’ve felt, to move forward with faith, even when the path is unclear. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit to having a rough day of doubt on a random Tuesday, just two weeks ago. The panic set in: “What have we done?! We aren’t finding anything, and maybe we acted too quickly, maybe we were too impulsive and didn’t think this through!” Yet, just ten days later, we were already signing over our home to someone else. Closed. Sold. Done. And still, not a single house on the market that we were even interested in walking through. What *had* we done?
So, perhaps it’s time to talk about the perceived “mistakes” and the lessons learned.
When the Plan Goes Awry: Embracing the Unexpected
It’s truly humorous how quickly one can transition from a confident “We’ve got this!” to a bewildered “What the heck did we do?!” Our initial plan was meticulously laid out: we would list the house, anticipate a reasonable selling period, allow a standard 30 days for closing, and request a leaseback agreement. During this time, we would diligently search for and purchase a new home, moving in so the children would have the entire summer to settle, make new friends, and register for their new school. A perfect, logical, and reassuring plan.
However, reality unfolded with startling speed: we sold immediately and closed just ten days later. #nottheplan. Since then, we’ve walked through only five homes, none of which sparked any genuine excitement or interest. It was during this period of stark contrast between expectation and reality that I experienced my personal “fall apart” moment. I found myself on my knees, looking up, questioning, wondering. I even felt tempted by anger and annoyance. “Why did we feel prompted to do this? Had I truly felt it, or had we simply been impulsive? Why did we sell with absolutely nowhere to go?!” The carefully constructed plan had shattered, leaving us adrift in uncertainty.
Silence Everything to Hear Everything: Finding Clarity Amidst Chaos
When the emotional pain and doubt become overwhelming, the most effective response is to silence everything else to truly hear everything that matters. This means returning to a state of stillness, allowing the cacophony of worry and fear to subside. It’s about stating the undeniable facts, allowing yourself to remember the profound feelings of peace and certainty you once felt, and deliberately choosing to have faith in the path that unfolded. It was a conscious effort to reconnect with the divine guidance we had experienced.
In that quiet reflection, the clarity returned, reinforced by several undeniable facts:
1. We had felt it. We experienced a profound peace *and* an undeniable urgency to sell our home immediately. That feeling was real and unwavering.
2. The buyers, who were from out of state, needed a place ASAP. Their answered prayers were just as significant and divinely orchestrated as ours.
3. Crucially, the following Monday and Thursday saw a significant rise in interest rates and a palpable fear gripping the housing market. We had barely “skidded into our sale” before widespread panic began to affect buyers, potentially making our sale much more difficult or less lucrative.
4. If we were still in the process of selling our home now, the additional stress of a changing market would be immense.
5. Housing prices are now showing signs of slightly lowering, which means we might even end up securing a better deal on our next home than we would have a month ago.
6. Most importantly, it *did* feel incredibly good and right in the moment. And there are likely other miracles unfolding that we haven’t even fully perceived yet. Above all, I know what I felt, and I cannot deny it – it was absolutely the right decision to sell when we did.
The Wait: A Journey of Transformation
Sometimes, you have to repeat truths to yourself, over and over, because your mind cannot yet fully grasp something your heart already deeply believes. You say it, you feel it, you repeat it, until it becomes an integral part of your being. This has been our mantra through this period of waiting.
Every day is a countdown, bringing us closer to the end of our leaseback, with three children relying on us to find our next home. Yet, I feel it. I feel an unwavering conviction that there is a divine plan, a specific way forward for us. I feel there is profound purpose in this interim period, this “wait.” I’m already witnessing its transformative effects in our children – their adaptability, their resilience, and their growing faith. Something far more important to me than merely finding a new house is how this entire experience is changing us as a family. This journey of uncertainty, trust, and profound growth has become such a central theme in our lives that, if I were to title a movie about my life right now, it would undoubtedly be, “The Wait.” And I love it, because it is teaching us to truly live by faith, not by sight.