Digging Up Roots

In 2007, we packed up our lives and moved to the Salt Lake City area. We had no idea what we were doing. All I knew was that I was leaving everything I'd ever known and forging a life in a city where I knew nothing and no one. I started updating this blog almost every day because, in doing that, I could update my world--the world I had left behind--on everything that was going on in our lives. Blogging isn't really a thing anymore, not in this world of influencers and YouTubers and podcasters. No one reads blogs anymore. But I find myself thinking about those early days of living here...

A friend of mine recently told me that she knew I never really liked it here.

She was a God-given gift to me when we first moved. She moved a couple hours north about a year and a half later. I can only imagine that it is our distance that created the perception that I don't like this place. To be sure, there have been challenging things. There have been cultural anomalies that, even in 11 years, I haven't quite been able to grow accustomed to. There are things I don't like about Utah.

But from anywhere, I can look east or west and see the most beautiful mountains. Snow covered peaks that jut straight into the heavens and declare His majesty. Mountains that boast of caves and streams, trees and winding roads that have taken me to adventure.

There have been hot summers at the pool. There have been fireworks and barbecues and white Christmases and the same view out my bedroom window for over a decade. There has been a job that I loved and ice cream and sports--so many softball games and baseball games and soccer games and track meets.

Here, heartbreak grew us. The Joygiver turned sorrow to blessing.

But more than all that, more than the salads from Cafe Rio and the dollar theater that has since closed, more than the school that we love and the yard that my babies turned to big boys in, more than all that, there are people. I came here friendless.

We are leaving. After 11 and a half years, we are picking up this family and unwinding it from the people we love more than anything. It feels so right. The doors He has opened cannot be closed and we must walk through them. But my broken heart hurts.

I don't typically cry in public. I put on a stone face and disconnect from the emotion of it all. I don't know if that's because of my English roots or my perfectionist personality or if I'm just an unfeeling robot. But behind a closed door, in the privacy of my own home, I am undone. I cannot even allow myself to connect with the thought that I am leaving these beautiful souls. My God, my God, in my own strength, I cannot do this.

I cannot leave my best friend. I have tried to think back. I wish I could remember the very first time I saw her but I can't. I had no idea, you see. I didn't know that the mom waiting for her toddler would become the friend that I don't know how to live without. I didn't know the memories we would make, the trips we would take, the stories we would share. I didn't know, when I left California, that there was this person just waiting to be my best friend. How did I live so many years not knowing she existed?

I cannot leave my partner and friend in ministry. When she moved several years ago, I told my mother that I didn't know how to do ministry without her. The Lord, in His infinite wisdom, mercifully brought her back to me and I am eternally grateful for the extra time He allowed us. But the statement holds. I do not know how to do ministry without her. I have a vague idea that it can be done but I simply do not know how. I am afraid that I cannot live without her laugh in my life.

I cannot leave the one who really saw me. The one who accepted me for who I am and didn't put any expectations on what it meant to be the pastor's wife. She embraced my authenticity early and allowed me to be a regular mom and a regular wife and a regular person who watched hilarious sitcoms and quoted them often and unashamedly.

I cannot leave my sister-wife*. The one who loves my children as much as I do. I cannot take my youngest child from her because she prayed for him as fervently as I did. I cannot take myself away from her because I doubt very seriously that I will ever encounter a kinder soul and I do not want to live without her.

And all the other best good friends I have. All the other people who have loved on me so well. All the people who have stepped in as sisters and brothers and mentors. All the ones who have taught me and seen me. All the other ones--I could fill a book with tales of their care and support. The influence of so many is far reaching, even into the depths of my soul. I sit here and I weep at the thought of trying to dig up these roots.

To those who may have thought differently, how I have loved Utah. I have loved her so very, very deeply. I know that I will love others. I know that there are friends waiting to be made and that God will be glorified both here and there. But please, in these moments, know that my heart is broken into a million pieces.

*Not actually a sister-wife. To clarify. Because this IS Utah.