October 30, 2026
We made it to Alabama! And overall, we're doing well. We love the area and feel fortunate to have made the move. However, there were quite a few snags in getting here, and settling in has been more of an ordeal than we'd hoped for.
The first surprise was Hurricane Isaias. This storm came late in the season and caught everyone off guard. It came up so suddenly, even the moving company hadn’t heard of it—and the packers were at our house! They would be driving right into it unless new plans were made.
We noticed the clouds building as we made our way through Mississippi and approached Alabama. We drove into town just hours ahead of it. All plans for our first weekend went out the window, including a birthday surprise for John. And because of the hurricane, we had to scramble to find a place to stay.
Other things were out of our control, too, like the moving company’s poor communication, our belongings being delayed, and moving into our cottage later than expected.
In my previous post, I mentioned how our move felt like an approaching waterfall. Well, our first days here felt like the turbulent waters at the base of the falls. We were tired after the long drive, exhausted from all the thinking and packing, and unprepared for the cooler weather brought by the storm. Everything was happening at once. We were definitely out of our comfort zone, trying to catch our breath.
While these disruptions and discomforts were not fun, they were also not total surprises. We know every adventure comes with unknowns, challenges, and adjustments. That’s part of trying something new. But in the moment, especially in our first couple of weeks, it was hard.
To help navigate our way and steady ourselves, we considered potential obstacles and prepared as best we could. We packed folding chairs and a coffee pot, along with a few changes of clothes in case the truck was delayed. We reserved a hotel room when we were in Louisiana. And we didn’t wait until everything was unpacked and organized before bringing in beauty.
Beauty helps us feel grounded. It doesn’t have to be expensive or fancy, but it makes a difference. I started right away with diffusing essential oils. And with boxes still stacked on counters and blocking the door, I created small pockets of normalcy. The soup pot went on the stove, and the plant stand went in the hallway.
These bits of beauty may seem small and insignificant, but they gave our eyes something to rest on and hope for better days ahead. They motivated us to keep going.
We looked for joy and opportunities to laugh. We sipped coffee on the patio, listened to the birds, and celebrated John’s birthday without the surprise. We talked about our life in Texas, our being in Alabama now, and how grateful we are for all of it.
We could do this because we believe God was in the details. Despite the storm and the events that came after, that assurance helped me pivot without falling apart.
Making a Home, One Step at a Time
We've been in our cottage a couple of weeks now, and it's starting to feel like home. It’s smaller than our Texas house, and (thankfully) we have less stuff now. It’s been fun to implement things I learned earlier this year through downsizing.
For instance, it’s quick to tidy up this smaller space and easier to clean. We’re spending less money, too. Before I purchase something, I ask:
Do I really need it?
Do I have it in storage now?
Can I substitute (this potential purchase) with something I already have?
Can I wait to purchase it?
These questions minimize what I bring into our home. They also lead me to creative solutions I might not have thought of otherwise.
We’re still settling in and dealing with some challenges after the move. Some items were damaged, and others are still missing because the storage unit needs organizing. And I’m not just talking about a little tweak here and there. It’s a mess, and I need to address it before I can really put the move behind us.
Dealing with storage is like decluttering on a whole new level. There's the physical chaos to sort through, as well as the emotional debris that comes up.
After spending months decluttering and doing all I could to make this transition smooth, I'm frustrated by how parts of the move were handled and by the unexpected losses and extra work that resulted.
My former self would say something like, “It is what it is,” minimizing my feelings, dismissing the moving company’s actions, or implying that I shouldn’t be upset. I don't want to pretend that those things don't matter. I also don't want these let-downs to define our story.
So, I put on my coaching hat and get curious. Can there be another way to approach this?
I often ask: Does this matter? Sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes, not so much. The truth is, my energy is limited, especially during this transition. If I spend it all on anger over something I cannot change, I have less to use on something important—like building the life we want. So I ask myself another question: How and where do I want to spend my energy?
I remind myself it’s okay to pace myself, rest, and get settled. That’s what I would tell my client. Sometimes I need to hear my own advice. :)
What Are We Making Room For?
We’re settling into a balanced routine here. We have breakfast on the porch most days. Saturdays are for exploring the area and enjoying fall activities. Sundays are for church, family calls, and rest. Monday through Friday, I work in the storage unit, study, and write.
My schedule is open like never before. I have room to build relationships, listen, explore, write, and discover what this season is about. I’m curious with expectation, and that’s a fun way to be.
Over and over, I’m reminded of how much we benefited from decluttering. I’m so glad we started months before our move. With less to manage, I feel energized and motivated to do things that I labeled as trivial before.
The biggest surprise in all of this was that our adventure started with decluttering.
We could have stayed in Texas. We could have rejected the idea of moving altogether. Or we could have come to Alabama without downsizing first and dealt with the clutter later. But John and I said yes to relocating because we felt God inviting us into an adventure—to experience something we couldn’t have anywhere else.
The work we did before the move changed more than the number of boxes we brought. It changed us.
When I started decluttering, my plate was full. I wasn’t looking for more; I wanted things to be easier. Clearing my physical space simplified my life and so much more. As we let go of what we no longer needed, we released the weights and responsibilities that were attached to them.
Yes, we have less stuff. But the best part? Decluttering helped us recognize we could honor our past without carrying all of it into our future. There was healing and closure. We did everything we could before the move to end that chapter cleanly, so we came to Alabama lighter, with greater clarity and confidence.
God has a plan for us (Ephesians 2:10), and it holds hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). Our age, health, and work status don't limit it. I wonder what He has in mind, and I’m curious to see how things unfold here.
So, back to the question: How are we now? I like the direction we’re going, and I feel like we’re doing well as we adjust to Alabama living.
How about you? Is there an area in your life that feels cluttered? A place that you know needs to change? Can you think of one small step that you could take to make your life a little easier? You don't have to do it all today or know where it will lead. I'm cheering you on as you discover what's possible for you.
I’m sharing what I’m learning about decluttering, transitions, and being intentional with both my thoughts and my things on the blog, Clearing the Way. I hope you’ll find something helpful for whatever you’re sorting.
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