Moving Home

On Big decisions, Discernment, and Trusting God

Good morning, friends. A quick note before today’s essay. Two weeks ago, after I announced our pending move back to Steubenville, I received quite a few questions about our “why” and our discernment process. I’m answering those questions in today’s essay, both because I hope it’s helpful and because thoughts of our move are occupying every corner of my mind. I did hesitate before posting, though, mostly because I know things can go wrong right up until the moment papers are signed. So, please read this whole newsletter knowing it reflects our discernment process up to this very second and that prayers for smooth appraisals, inspections, mortgages, closings, and actual move days are needed and appreciated.

Also, this will be the last regular essay of 2023. Next month, as in Advents past, I’ll instead offer a mini Advent retreat for full subscribers. It really is mini, just four weekly written reflections tied in to the Sunday Gospel readings, accompanied by a series of questions for your week. It’s designed to be short, simple, and low key…because short, simple, and low-key are what I need during December and I know others do too. You don’t have to do anything special to get these reflections. They will automatically go out to all full subscribers every Sunday. If you’re reading this and not a full subscriber, this is a great time to become one

.I couldn’t sleep last night. In part, because Becket woke up, then Ellie woke up, and even though Chris was on night duty, I don’t fall back asleep easily. More than that, my mind just couldn’t rest. It kept circling back to my to-do list for the next six weeks, which now includes not only making the stuffing for Thanksgiving and decorating the house for Christmas, but also securing a new mortgage, booking a moving company, and neatly packing the lives of five people into cardboard boxes.

All of which is to say, as of Sunday night, our house is officially under contract.

A half dozen things could still go wrong. Buyers who change their minds, a low appraisal, a bad inspection, or delayed paperwork could all derail or delay our move to Steubenville, but for now, God willing, the countdown to upheaval has begun. And I am so, so excited.

I am not excited about the process of moving. I’m dreading that like the plague. It’s also strange to think of anyone besides my family living in this house. I know other people lived in it for over a century before mine came along. But when we bought this place we remade every inch of it, renovating, repairing, and restoring all that 126 years of life had taken from it. There is not one corner of this house over which I didn’t labor. And now we’re walking away from it.

We’re also walking away from the nursery, where I rocked three miracle babies to sleep; from the dining room where friends laughed and ate; from all the rooms where marriage and parenthood, birth and death, friendships forged and friendships lost have transformed our lives. Through both the work done to this house and the life lived in it, we have made it utterly and completely our own. And I will miss it. I also will miss going to Mass every Sunday at the parish we adore. And I am not excited at all about the extra 40 minutes that will separate me from the dearest friends I’ve made here. But if I could pack up and go tomorrow, I would.

Why?

There are a dozen practical reasons. It’s more affordable in Ohio. Taxes are lower. Gas and food are cheaper. We will have more house and more yard than we ever could have in Pittsburgh. The two Catholic organizations with which I have worked most closely for the past twenty years—Franciscan University and the St. Paul Center—are based in Steubenville. The homeschooling laws are much less onerous. The state government is much more competent. Babysitters are easier to come by. Again, just lots of sensible reasons. But none of those alone or together are why we’re leaving a home and friends we love. So again, why? Why the move and how did we discern it was the right one?

A Foundation of Place

The answer to that question starts with our children.

Unlike some families who move to Steubenville, we’re not going because we think it will “keep our kids Catholic” or insulate them from all the harsh realities of a broken world. I spent 15 years living in Steubenville before Chris and I married, and I am under no illusions about what a Catholic community will and will not do for your kids. Trouble can find your family anywhere. Wherever humans abide, sin abides as well. So do annoyances, frustrations, casual cruelty, and petty feuds. Steubenville is not Heaven, and if someone moves there expecting it to be so, they will find themselves disappointed right quick.

We’re not expecting Heaven. We’re not moving to give our kids or ourselves a perfect Catholic life. But we are moving to give them a better life, a life where school isn’t 45 minutes away, Church isn’t 20 minutes away, and play dates never happen because coordinating social activities with families spread out across an entire metropolitan area takes more time than any mom with three littles has. Chris and I don’t want our kids spending their childhood in a car. We want them to spend it in their own neighborhood, running wild with friends who live in houses we can see from our kitchen window. And that’s what they’ll have in Steubenville.