Moving... Again

Hey guys! So, it's been a while but, uh, here's another post!
As PK's most of us have moved more times than we'd like to admit. Some pk's find their identity in moving because they've allowed it to define them. This is the whole reason we have this blog. As pk's we need to be here for each other and encourage each other to see how awesome we truly are, no matter what our parents are like!
I, Caitlin, am moving... Again! Hence the title.
To fully undestand this move you need a little more backstory about me.
My first town was Clarkston, WA. My parents were youth pastors there until I was a couple months old. Then we youth pastor-ed (yes, it's a verb.) in Sea-Tac. We were there until I turned two, this is when my parents felt God's calling us to something brand new and better than we could ever imagine. We moved to Yakima! So, Yakima is kinda lame sounding and anyone who's lived here forever would say it is boring. But, we moved here to become children's pastors. We love the people here. It was the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I was only two. We've been here in Yakima for 14.5 years and we love it here! My grandparents have moved up here to live close to us and my great-grandparents came too. This is our town. This is my "hometown." This is home.
Last September my dad began feeling the call to become a senior pastor. At first all it was to me was an excited feeling, something I couldn't fully understand yet. It was just an exciting thought in the back of my mind. My dad told me it would be a few years until then. But I could see him changing and growing. Only a year or two before this we left children's ministries, and began associate pastor-ing (another verb). I could see him changing and growing and I knew it would be sooner than we all expected but I denied that thought, hoping it would pass. It didn't.
This Spring Break, my dad dropped the bomb. By the end of this year we would be senior pastors. I'd like to say it didn't bother me, but it did. I was upset and hurt. Yet, I couldn't talk about it because no one was supposed to know yet. I kept quiet and pretended all was okay but deep down, I knew it wasn't. I knew it meant leaving all I really know.
The exciting/adventure-some thoughts were starting to wear off. They were still there but slowly fading.
My parents were looking at churches and submitting resumes at every opening they felt a slight tug towards. With every church or town they told me about I died a little inside.
Yakima's my home, why in the world would I want to leave it? I have all I could ever ask for here. Awesome friends, an amazing church, and nearby family. What could be better?
Moscow, Idaho. A town I had only heard my dad talk about. Yes, it's only a half hour from my first town but I hadn't ever been there. Why would I want to? It's home to the Vandals. I love Boise State. Pssshh why would I want to go to Vandal Country?
Yet, I didn't fight God's call on our family. I kept trucking on. I didn't want to admit that God had a plan for us there, I wanted to be bitter and upset but I just couldn't be.
We finally announced to our church in Yakima on September 4th that we were looking at moving on. One year after God's callings first began. I don't even want to count how many people came up to me tears in their eyes, telling me how much I mean to them, and how much they're going to miss me. Somehow I managed to smile the whole day and to say I was just happy there wasn't a secret anymore. Yet, I knew that with every face that looked at me with that look, pk's you know which 'look' I'm talking about, I knew that I wouldn't ever forget it.
It was nice to have people know but all the questions, they were overwhelming. It was great to finally talk about it but still there were so many, so so many.
That next week we went to Moscow, for the first time. And we were elected unanimously. I looked over at my little sister a few minutes after it was announced, while the church was praying for us, to see tears streaming down her face. But, I looked around at the people praying for us and could see the excitement, and anticipation, and joy in their faces. Only to look back at my sister's and see her crying. It was hard. But this totally explains the torn feelings I have about this move. Sadness, but excitement. Such a big contradiction, an oxymoron really but yet that's how I feel.
It's an adorable looking town. But, I'd be lying if I said I'm overly excited to live there. I'm excited for the new and what we're going to do there but so sad about what I'm going to have to leave behind.
This next week was the week when the ever popular question started appearing more and more prominently. "Are you excited? Or are you nervous?" My answer, yes. I am excited for the new but I am so nervous. This is something totally new. Yes, God has prepared me and my family but there's so many things to think about. This is my junior year, and I'm transferring to a new high school, I'm going to have to get a job that isn't babysitting since I won't know many young families needing a sitter, I'm going to be at a new church where everyone will know me but I won't know them. I am very excited for what God's going to do and what all I'm going to learn.
As this dream has become more and more of a reality the excitement is wearing off, and the sadness is nearly outweighing it. Not quite but getting close.
I'm going to miss Yakima very much, but the best is yet to come.