Recently I’ve been reflecting on our different seasons and chapters, our various moves and the similar challenges in each new place.

It was then that I realized: I’ve spent the majority of my adulthood living in four different valleys.

I lived in the same small town for 21 years (Marysville, Washington). And then my family was sent out with a church plant.

So in 2008, we moved to the Skagit Valley.

(After four years, we moved back to Arlington, just north of Marysville.)

Then in 2014, we moved to the Dungeness Valley (still in Washington).

In 2017, we moved to the Susquehanna Valley (in Pennsylvania).

And in 2021, we moved to the Central Valley (in California).

Valley after valley (after valley after valley).

With every experience in each valley, there are always lessons to learn and incredible people to meet.

But all too often those first steps in the valley feel terribly lonely. Beginning again stirs up countless emotions. We’re trying to settle and find our place and take up space. We’re surrounded by people, and yet we’re alone.

Until you find your people, until rhythms are established, until resources are found, until connections are made – it’s hard. There’s a temptation to long for past chapters, to miss Egypt, to isolate.

Our view is often limited in the valley; vision is blocked as we look around and see the same scene all around us.

I have to look back long enough to recall God’s faithfulness in each season, through every valley. And then I have to intentionally look forward, look up, eyes fixed on Him, and trust the work He’s doing in and through me, here and now.

As Tauren Wells sings so well, God is the God of the hills and the valleys. In the wins and losses. In the seen and unseen. In the good and the hard. In the victory and in the wait. In peace and in trouble.

God is always on the throne. He’s been with me in valley after valley. And I am beyond grateful.

Further Reading: Through Valleys and Over Mountains