Some things you have to learn the hard way, you know? I’m one of those people who has to learn just about everything the hard way.

I know I’ve processed our move from Colorado Springs to St. Louis on my blog before. But there’s just something about coming back that makes you have to do it all over again.

Our time with the Navigators is one I do not regret by any stretch. The people we worked with were family to us, and in many ways will always be. They also probably know us better than anyone else on the planet, so I’ve found myself asking the question over and over this week: Why did we leave this place? These people?

I’ve had to remind myself that the move was one ordained by God and that I can definitely see his hand in where we are now and the work he’s given us to do for this season of life. I know that. I see that.

But I still grieve what we left.

Some of you have read my recounting of our struggle with the church, mostly taking place right here in Colorado Springs. So knowing that, and knowing that we’d finally found a place we loved in Village 7, the struggle we faced when we moved to St. Louis was a shock to me that I never saw coming.

The struggle to make friends in St. Louis was one I did see coming, though the weird culture of pseudo-cliquishness that made up seminary campus-life was one I didn’t.

A few months into our campus existence I began to sink in this relational void I couldn’t even name. I had nobody to process this with in St. Louis so I emailed a friend in Colorado Springs and mentioned how much I was struggling.

Her response to me burned itself in my memory for the rest of my days. It was short. It was sharp. It was sad. In response to my plea for something from someone who knew me, she responded with, “Don’t forget, you wanted to move.”

Click here for Part 2 of this story on moving.