Counting the Cost

I knew leaving my job would be emotional, but this part of the journey caught me completely off guard. I’d been preparing for months—cleaning out my room, transitioning responsibilities, wrapping up projects, and managing the emotions of those around me. I spent many days carrying their heavy feelings about my leaving, comforting and encouraging them. In all of that, I didn’t realize how heavy my own heart had become.

It hit me on the very last day.

Ringing the bell, saying goodbye, turning in “my” keys and “my” technology, things that were never really mine but felt like symbols of belonging, and walking to the Bethel parking lot for the last time. I’d looked forward to this season of Sabbath and rest before Guatemala, but I was not prepared for how sad I would feel leaving the people and place that had been shaping me since my first day. I hadn’t cried through any of the preparation - selling our home, downsizing, fundraising, all of it. But that day? I wept.

The first few days afterward felt rhythmless, too quiet, too long, a little restless. A Monday morning with no alarm is both blissful and unsettling. For months my heart and mind had been in two places at once: doing my work well in the present while preparing for the work ahead. Stepping out of that tension has felt like freedom. A relief. A gift. And it has also felt like closure.

I’m proud of the work I did at Bethel. I’m grateful for answered prayers. God provided someone wonderful to step into my role. I’m confident my teachers and students are in good hands. This season of leaving well feels like a chapter truly closed, and closed well.

When I counted the cost of leaving, I grossly underestimated this step. And yet, even in the heaviness, God is good and in control. My security doesn’t come from what I hold in my hands, it comes from Him. Trusting His provision, leaning on His wisdom, and walking each step with Him has never felt more real. This season is a vivid reminder of Proverbs 3:5–6: to trust Him, not rely on my own understanding, and acknowledge Him in every step of the journey.

Right now, I acknowledge His goodness with gratitude—for celebration lunches, the best cake ever, mini-me twins, school spirit queen selfies, thank-you notes, precious kid letters, and what felt like at least a thousand hugs. I’m grateful for the friends and colleagues who shaped me, and always grateful for Mr. Rollins, who holds my big, messy feelings when I can’t hold them myself.

I’m also grateful for what’s ahead, for the days when all of our preparation will bear fruit.

As we prepare, and as we go, our greatest need is partners who will pray with us and provide financial support for the work God is doing in Guatemala. If you are interested in being a co-laborer as we carry out the Great Commission, please visit our giving page.