Waves of Change

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you." Isaiah 43:2

I’m sitting here by the patio window, watching the breeze push big waves across the lake. There’s something calming about it — almost hypnotic. I’ve always dreamed of living by the ocean, but for now, this view will do just fine.

According to my granddaughter Paislee, though, this is the ocean. And you know what? In her eyes, it’s every bit as beautiful.

Just the other day, on one of those sunny-yet-windy North Dakota afternoons, I took Paislee and Gunnar down to the shoreline. We stood and watched the waves roll in, strolled along the beach, and tossed rocks into the water. I even tried to teach them how to skip stones — but quickly realized we’d need a calmer day for that lesson.

We ended up at the park nearby, where there’s a little playhouse tucked beneath the slides. Before long, we were running our own café, serving ice cream and soda from our imaginary menu. The way children can turn a simple space into a whole new world never fails to amaze me.

Watching them play took me straight back to my own childhood — raking fallen leaves into room “walls” and creating the grandest mansion a little girl could imagine. I could spend hours in those trees, lost in my make-believe world.

It’s a joy to see my grandkids using their imagination instead of being glued to a screen. After our park adventure, we strolled back home and kept right on watching the waves dance across the lake.

This, my friends, is our new life.

It’s one of the biggest changes we’ve made — one we’d been dreaming about for years. We always said that when Kalli graduated high school, we’d spend more time at the lake. This spring, we decided to make it permanent.

Word travels fast in small towns, and in May 2024, a family reached out about buying our Carrington home. We explained that we wanted to stay until Kalli’s graduation in May 2025, but we let them take a look. They made an offer on the spot. We accepted — with the agreement that we could remain there until after graduation.

Not long after, we put our lake trailer house up for sale, planning to replace it with something larger and more permanent. Once again, without advertising, a buyer came to us. It felt like the pieces were falling into place.

We picked out a modular home and had it moved to our lake property last July, giving us nearly a year to sort through three decades of belongings. That time was a gift — a chance to declutter, donate, sell, and reminisce over 30 years of memories.

By the time graduation arrived, our old house held only mattresses on the floor and the bare essentials. We celebrated Kalli’s milestone in the garage — just as we had for Justine and Bailee — one last big hurrah in the home we built from the ground up.

The very next day, with the help of Tristan and Bailee, we packed the final boxes and officially moved to our new lake home.

It was bittersweet. Though we only moved 45 miles away, we left behind the community that had been our home for 31 years — the place where we raised our three children, built friendships, and made a lifetime of memories. That town will always hold a special place in our hearts.

But it was time. Time for a new chapter, a new rhythm, and a new view outside our window.

We have all the boxes put away pictures on the walls. We’re just waiting for the four seasons room to be built with a deck and then we will do some landscaping. Feels more like a home every day. But then again I’ve always said you can make a home wherever you are as long as you’re surrounded by those you love.

It’s camping season still, so weekends are full of activity, but during the week, it’s quiet — almost like living in the country. We have a few neighbors who live here year-round like we do, but the peacefulness is a world apart from town life. I do miss the convenience of town, but I’ve missed the serenity of the country even more.

As I’ve said before, our life has been full of many changes over the years — and this past year has been no exception. Some changes come easier than others, especially as I get older, but I’ve learned that most of them bring something good, something needed.

So here’s to new beginnings, to holding on to the memories that built us, and to making new ones in the place we now call home.

The view outside my window isn’t just water and sky — it’s a daily reminder that life, like the waves, is always moving. Some days it’s calm and gentle, others it’s wild and restless, but it’s always beautiful in its own way.

And just like those waves, we keep rolling forward — carrying our past with us while embracing the horizon ahead.