Returning Home

Austin & Kristian Moyers - and Roo

In August of 2019, my wife and I packed up to move to St. Andrews, Scotland, so that I could pursue a master’s degree in Theology and the Arts from the University of St. Andrews. As we were packing and making our preparations to leave, it felt like a dream. It was still unbelievable that I had been accepted to the program, and it often felt crazy and reckless to have said yes. We weren’t sure what would happen once we arrived – I didn’t know any of my classmates or professors. Kristian hadn’t found a job. We had little to no information about where we would be living, how much space we would have, or where the nearest grocery store would be. We were moving across the world, and the move was full of the unknown.

8 months later, we found ourselves packing once again. Two students at the University had been diagnosed with Covid-19, one of whom lived in our apartment complex. The United States had just issued a travel ban. The president of my university urged students who were able to travel home safely to do so. Once again, as we were frantically packing our belongings and giving away the food in our pantry, it felt like a dream. We weren’t supposed to be leaving Scotland for another five months; we had countless plans, family members who wanted to come see us, and trips we had been saving for the summer months. I would be finishing my degree long distance, without the support system of my classmates who had become dear friends. Once again, we didn’t know where we would be living. Once again, Kristian was without a job and had to begin frantically applying. We had no way of knowing if the people around us in the airports and flights were healthy or not. Once again, we were moving across the world, and the move was full of the unknown.

In both of these situations, I was experiencing an underlying feeling, and a way of addressing that feeling. Both times, I felt deep existential dread, sadness, and fear. I was leaving behind a way of life and heading into the unknown, and felt like I had no control over what would happen next. I addressed this feeling by pushing it away; I sought a deep, numbing calm which allowed me to just move forward without dwelling on any of the highs or the lows of the experience. Without thinking, I would resort to the easy way through which doesn’t address my own feelings and fears. This seems useful, but is actually unhealthy. One of the huge downsides to this kind of problem solving is that you rarely take notice when the problems actually become solved. When you don’t notice that problems have been solved, you cannot celebrate and give thanks to God. Allow me to list some of the ways our problems were solved.

We arrived in Scotland almost 24 hours late, having missed connecting flights and train rides. Miraculously, an acquaintance of my father agreed to pick us up in Edinburgh and drive us to our new home. On that first day, we were able to not only locate the grocery store, but also secure bedding and pillows (something we were very concerned about). Our apartment, while absolutely tiny, became a sweet home. My cohort quickly became very close, and provided us with a tight-knit community of students and their spouses who we shared our struggles, successes, and lives with. Kristian eventually found a job which made her happy and gave her purpose. We found a church which welcomed us with open arms and supported us when we had to leave. Many things came together and turned what seemed terrifying and impossible into the most beautiful 8 months of our lives, a time that we will always cherish.

And our return to the US: we secured flights quickly enough that we saved several thousand dollars. Kristian found a job almost immediately. We asked for information on a duplex, and the realtor turned out to be a good friend who helped us find a home. I quickly found a good, cheap bicycle to do the little commuting I need to do. We were able to adopt a sweet pup who needed a home, and who keeps me company while Kristian is at work. Once again, many things came together and turned what seemed terrifying and impossible into one of the smoothest transitions I have ever heard of, and we have been able to re-start a lovely life here in Lubbock.

In both of these situations, I was not able to recognize the way things had miraculously been resolved until well after the fact. Because I kept my head down and focused on moving forward without addressing my feelings or fears, I was numb to the way God had already been working in my life and addressing those feelings and fears. In this tumultuous time, I know full well that Kristian and I are not the only ones who experienced loss, fear, and extreme life changes. I’m also willing to guess that there are plenty of others out there like me, who have kept their head down these past few months, and also may not have noticed the ways God has addressed their feelings and fears. In the next few weeks or so, I invite you to take a moment, lift your head up, and see the ways God has been working in your life that you might not have noticed. It may be in something profound, or it may be something as simple as finding a pillow or being contacted by a friend. Allow yourself to be surprised,

for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.
(“As Kingfishers Catch Fire,” Gerard Manley Hopkins)