Moving On

In retrospect, the past year of my life has felt like nothing but moving.

Moving from Georgia to Virginia.

Moving through schoolwork as quickly as possible toward graduation.

Moving through the motions of having a picky and hyperactive toddler.

Moving through various issues that come with being an adult.

Traveling back and forth from the barn.

And even driving to and from Georgia to check on the house there.

All in all, I feel like we haven’t really stopped. Or I haven’t, at least. 

Unfortunately, my brain is always stuck in fight or flight waiting for the next shoe to drop.

As I mentioned in a recent edition, the shoe has dropped and we are actively moving again. This time, it’s only a 30 minute move from one town to another, closer to the horses’ barn and my husband’s job - thank God.

But even so, moving on is a mess every single time. My body goes into an anxious overdrive, compulsively waiting for the next problem to solve, and I can’t seem to rest.

It all just leaves me thinking about the concept of “moving on” - from the things that don’t serve you, and even the things you weren’t quite ready to leave in the first place.

I know that I’ve talked about this idea before, between me not being ready to leave my job in Jacksonville, to being completely turned upside down when we had to leave Georgia. 

Through all of it, the only peace I’ve been able to find has been between the pages of my Bible. God and His words have been the only things unchanging through each of those seasons.

My faith walk with God has been a long and winding road - I’ve completely veered off course and tried to create my own road more times than I can count.

But on the 21st of last June, I surrendered for the truest and final time. 

I found my salvation in Christ many years ago, and I was never unbelieving, but I was disobedient to His commands and rebellious in a highly self-destructive way. I ended up walking my own path for so long out of my own pain and shame that I didn’t realize I was lost in the first place. At that point, it was all I felt like I knew anymore.

I knew deeply that God exists and loves me, but I didn't love myself, and I just couldn’t comprehend how He could love me anyway, so I kept Him at arm’s length. I offered measly prayers of gratitude every night, but never enough to warrant a real relationship with Him.

That went on until a little after I got married. 

Things got better. Then they got worse.

I was so excited for the arrival of our son, but when I was carrying him, I don’t think I’d ever felt worse mentally. For me, postpartum was nothing compared to how I felt during pregnancy.

I felt like I was nothing after having to quit my job, so I turned back to God, finally offering a bit more of myself to Him again. 

It was a huge step - truly. I started Bible studying again like I did when I was in school. I started to regain a bit of purpose. 

But I was still drowning mentally, so that season of lukewarmness lasted for a few months more, then dwindled out slightly after I had our son. At that point, I was so exhausted, and just started college again two weeks after giving birth, so I used that as an excuse to not read my Bible as much.

From that point until a month before Walter’s second birthday, all I was doing was praying before bed and picking up my Bible maybe once a week. Sam was gone every other weekend, so we didn’t make it to church much.

It was June 21st, 2025 that changed everything for me.

The house wasn’t selling. Sam was already in Virginia, I was working and taking care of Walter alone - utterly exhausted and at the end of my rope mentally. That season took the cake as the worst season of my life to date.

I had gone to Barnes and Noble a few days prior; searching for some sort of book to distract me.

I ended up finding the Girls Gone Bible devotional “Out of the Wilderness” by Angela Halili and Arielle Reitsma. The cover offered me “31 Devotions to Walk with God Through Your Hardest Seasons,” and I didn’t think I could handle things getting much worse without something letting up, so I bought it and hoped that it could knock some sense of comfort into me. 

https://a.co/d/03szDsBJ (the link to purchase the devotional if interested!)

At that moment in my life, I could not comprehend why things weren’t working out; why God would let me sit there in limbo and uncertainty for so long.

But that night, I remember sitting at my kitchen table after putting Walter to bed. I read the first day of the devotional, then sat there and read my Bible and just cried over it all for hours. Before I knew it, it was 1:30 am, and I had to work the next morning. 

In those quiet moments, all I could think about was that I couldn’t do it alone anymore.

I realized that I had to move on from my relentless need for control over all things in my life, and move into a different posture of just trusting God’s plan - even if that meant living in limbo for a bit longer.

It was a hard pill to swallow for me; trying to understand that He must have a greater reason for us not to move just yet. It was hard to find comfort in that.

But that very night, I decided to surrender my lukewarm lifestyle I’d grown so comfortable in, and start seriously living my life for the Lord, for better or worse.

I had to walk away from my deep-seated illusion that I was the one calling the shots. It was never my vision in the first place.

It’s been a full year now, and I'm so proud to say that the realization stuck. It has not been an easy ride whatsoever, and I’m sure it never will be, but it has been the most transformative season of my life.

So as I sit here today, fully surrounded by cardboard boxes and the chaos of a half-packed home while actively preparing to move on again, it’s been made quite clear to me that my perspective has shifted once more.

Packing and planning still threatens to send me into that familiar, anxious overdrive I’ve come to know so well, but this time, I’m better prepared.

If you find yourself in a similarly chaotic season of unrest and uncertainty today - trying to force the pieces of your life to click together as you see fit - let me encourage you to just drop it all in the hands of someone far greater. 

Sometimes “moving on” doesn’t mean being able to immediately pack your things and change your zip code or solve every problem you have in a night (no matter how hard you try). Sometimes the greatest move you can make is simply putting down your plans, picking up your Bible, and trusting the only One who actually has the full picture.

It will undoubtedly turn out more beautiful than you could ever imagine.

Until next week,

— E. Byers, author of The Grassy Laine