Three years ago this weekend, we buckled all our kids into the car, pulled out of our Colorado driveway for the last time, and headed 19 hours across the country to Tennessee. We had no family waiting for us and no backup plan if things didn’t work out. Just this feeling we couldn’t shake – that staying put wasn’t the answer anymore – and the quiet hope that we weren’t making the biggest mistake of our lives.
The Chaos Before the Leap
From the outside, it probably looked like we had it all under control. But the truth is, things started spiraling from the moment we said go.
The plan was to list the house for one weekend, book a hotel, and avoid the stress of dragging five kids and two dogs out of the house every time someone scheduled a showing. It sounded like a brilliant strategy.
But because chaos has a wildly inconvenient sense of humor, an hour before the very first showing, a gust of wind ripped our storm door wide open and shattered the glass across the front steps.
There my husband and I were – sweating, rushing, trying to pack up the car, make the house look perfect, and wrangle children – wondering if this was just bad luck or the first sign that everything was about to go off the rails.
And that was just the beginning. There was also a whole lot of time spent FaceTiming walk-throughs of homes in towns we’d never set foot in, countless offers that weren’t accepted, and stressing over the moving pods full of our belongings that almost didn’t get picked up before we left.
But that’s a story for another day.
What mattered most in that moment was how tightly we were hanging on. To hope. To the possibility. To the gut feeling that – even with all the doubt, the chaos, and every curveball life threw at us – we had to keep going.
Because our story isn’t just about taking a risk. It’s about overcoming everything that tried to talk us out of it so we could tell you just how worth it it really was.
The Life We Would’ve Missed
The other night, I was walking the gravel path around our neighborhood at sunset – one of those still, golden evenings where everything feels just a little bit magical. The sky was glowing orange, the fog was settling low across the ground, and frogs were croaking from the pond nearby. As I passed behind our house, I could hear my kids laughing and playing with their neighborhood friends out front.
And I stood there for a second, soaking it all in. Overwhelmed. Grateful. A little teary. Because this – this life we’ve built here – is something I didn’t even know I was hoping for.
And I can’t help but think about everything we would’ve missed if we hadn’t taken the risk. The friendships, the community, the opportunities, and the fresh air that just feels different now.
It’s easy to let fear win. To stay where it’s comfortable. To tell yourself now isn’t the right time. That you need more money, more experience, more certainty, or a giant neon sign pointing you in the right direction.
But sometimes? The only thing standing between you and the life you want is the guts to go for it.
Call It Reckless. I Call It Worth It.
A year after we moved, I shared a reflection on Facebook that still sticks with me: “Take the risk before you lose the chance.” It wasn’t just a quote. It was a challenge. A truth.
I know life feels heavy for a lot of people right now. Everything is more expensive, more uncertain, and more overwhelming. But maybe that’s all the more reason to leap when you feel the pull. Because what if it does work out? What if you land somewhere better than you imagined?
Not just geographically – but emotionally, spiritually, or professionally.
So here’s to the risks that look reckless on paper but feel right in your gut. Here’s to getting uncomfortable, trusting the nudge, and choosing growth over guarantees.
And if you’re still standing at your own crossroads? Here’s your sign.
