My Heart Halfway Across the Country

The day we left Washington State, my heart stayed there. It wasn’t that I wasn’t excited to move or that I couldn’t move on—it was that my people were still there. And where my people are, my heart is also.

Yesterday, after coming home from church in Tennessee—the state I now call home—it felt like a normal Sunday. We were pulling leftovers from the fridge for a quick lunch before I got the kids ready for their nap.

Then, the driveway alarm went off. My first thought? Oh, Amazon. It was Sunday, but Amazon always delivers on Sundays here. I get so many packages—not because I buy them, but because of TikTok. Being a TikTok affiliate has completely changed my perspective on stuff. I have more than I could ever imagine. Every day, I get what feels like a million packages in the mail—okay, maybe just three to five—new products to review.

So, as you can imagine, I don’t always check the window when the driveway alarm goes off anymore.

I kept going about my day—until I turned around to see the door opening… and two of my best friends from Washington State walking in.

If you’ve seen the video (because of course they filmed my reaction), that was me in pure shock.

I’ve always struggled with sudden changes to my plans. I live my life with a plan, so when something unexpected happens, it takes me a moment to adjust. My brain went into panic mode when they walked in—HELP! This wasn’t the plan!

Once it finally clicked, I gave them a huge hug. And about five minutes later, the tears hit. A piece of my heart that I had left in Washington was now standing in my kitchen in Tennessee.

If you’ve never had a friend that felt like a sister, this might sound extreme. But I’ve never had a sister, and I’ve always been blessed with friends—friends who love me like a sister, and whom I love the same way. Friends who have seen me cry, even weep. Friends who have held me when I felt like life was falling apart. Friends who have fed me when I couldn’t lift a finger. Friends who believed in me when I doubted myself.

Okay, now I’m crying again, thinking about these two friends who are still sleeping while I sit here, drinking coffee and listening to the storm—because, of course, when you get visitors, a tornado warning sweeps through town.

I love my people. I live for my people. But for some reason, so many of them live 2,000 miles away.

But today, a part of my heart is here. Here in my home. Holding me up, carrying my burdens, and showing up.

I literally wouldn’t be where I am today if I hadn’t had this tribe for the last seven years. God knew I needed them, and He knows I still do. And because of that, He made a way.

In my search to help others share their stories, I started reading The Story You Need to Tell, a book that encourages daily writing and journaling. It’s been such a powerful practice for me, and honestly, sharing with all of you helps too. Writing for myself feels wasted—but writing to remind others they aren’t alone? That makes it worth it.

So count this as my journal entry for March 31st—a day of hope and thanksgiving.