Starting Over Softly: What I’m Learning About Purpose, Faith & Belonging

When we moved to Austin, I thought the hardest part would be saying goodbye. Turns out, the real challenge began after the boxes were unpacked and the silence set in.

Moving to a new city is more than just learning street names or finding the nearest grocery store. It’s the quiet ache of missing familiar routines, cozy corners of your old home, and the people who made you feel known without needing to explain anything. I didn’t want to just survive this transition—I wanted to build belonging. I wanted peace. Purpose. And yes, a little beauty too.

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1. Creating a New "Routine" in an Unfamiliar Place

One of the first things I noticed after moving was how off my body felt. Back in Michigan, I had a routine, waking up early, working out, grabbing coffee, heading to work. In Austin, that routine disappeared. Mornings felt slow. My motivation felt quiet.

During one of our conversations, my life coach helped me realize something important: I had been chasing a schedule when what I really needed was a rhythm.

To me, a schedule is rigid, blocked by the hour, often demanding. But rhythm? Rhythm feels like a heartbeat. It’s not about controlling every moment, it’s about flowing with your season, honoring your energy, and letting life unfold with intention.

Now, I no longer will hold myself to a strict 6 a.m. wake-up or back-to-back tasks. Instead, I will start my day when my body is ready. I'll take things slow, with devotionals, a gentle stretch, walking Luna, making breakfast. I'll still do the things that matter to me: eat nourishing meals, move my body, check in with myself, care for my home, but it all happens within a rhythm that feels life-giving rather than pressured.

It’s one of the unexpected blessings of being a stay-at-home wife, I'm finally giving myself permission to stop rushing and start living slower, more intentionally.

A verse that’s carring me is:

“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” – Isaiah 26:3

Peace isn’t something I stumbled into, it’s something I’m learning to cultivate by listening, slowing down, and choosing rhythm over rigidity.

2. What No One Tells You About Starting Over

What no one tells you about starting over is how much it can quietly shake your sense of identity. For a long time, I tied purpose to productivity. To doing something measurable or impressive. So when we moved, and I stepped away from the structure of a full-time role, I found myself wondering, “What’s my role now?”

At first, that question felt harmless. But over time, it started building pressure in my chest. The slow days that should’ve felt restful instead brought anxiety. I felt guilty for not doing more, for not waking up early, for not having a plan. And when that guilt lingered long enough, it turned into panic.

There were moments where I found myself having full-blown panic attacks, feeling overwhelmed by what felt like nothing, but also everything at the same time. I felt lost in the quiet, unsure how to move forward without a title or a timeline.

That’s when I started working with a life coach. Through those conversations, I began to see that purpose didn’t have to be tied to productivity, it could be found in presence. She helped me unpack the expectations I was placing on myself and replace them with grace.

I learned that who I am without performing still has value. Still has purpose.

Being a stay-at-home wife has given me space to reimagine what purpose looks like—and for me, it’s in the ordinary. It’s in showing up for my home, my health, my faith, and my creativity.

Whether I’m filming a worship cover, writing a blog post, reorganizing a cabinet, having coffee with my husband or simply having a heart-to-heart with God during my walk with Luna, I’ve realized this:

Purpose isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s quiet faithfulness to what’s in front of you.

I no longer need a packed calendar to feel meaningful. I’ve started measuring purpose in peace, in presence, in how I choose to show up, even when no one’s watching.

3. Finding Faith, Beauty & Belonging in a New City

Starting over isn’t just about routines or roles, it’s about re-rooting your soul in a new place. And for me, that’s looked like creating spaces of beauty, returning to faith, and learning how to belong all over again.

When everything outside of me felt unfamiliar, I started turning inward, toward the things that have always made me feel grounded. My faith. A peaceful home. Small, beautiful moments that remind me God is near.

I began to treat my home not just as a space to live, but as a place to heal. Decorating slowly. Lighting candles. Playing music while I make coffee. Choosing colors and textures that made me feel calm, seen, and held. There was something deeply spiritual about making beauty out of the blank spaces, even in an apartment.

And lately, I’ve been stepping into my soft girl era, one where I let beauty be part of the healing, too. Each month, I’ve been treating myself to a new dress, something feminine, elegant, and completely me. I’ve been swapping out harsh products for more natural ones, embracing a more gentle, intentional way of caring for my body. It may sound small, but these acts of softness are shaping how I show up in this new life, with grace, with presence, and with a deep sense of worth.

And slowly, belonging began to take root,not just in my home, but in my community.

I recently started volunteering with the worship team at Life Family, our new church here in Austin, and it’s been such a gift. It’s helping me reconnect with my calling, and I’ve been meeting some amazing people along the way. It feels like God is gently weaving new threads of connection into this season.

Belonging doesn’t always come from people or places. Sometimes, it’s built from within—by faith, by beauty, and by the way we choose to show up for ourselves each day.

And faith has been my anchor through it all. Even when the days felt quiet or heavy, I kept returning to God in the ordinary, sipping on coffee with my husband, in the sunlight through my window, or in whispered prayers over my kitchen sink. I’ve learned that He meets me not just in church pews, but in the soft, sacred moments of daily life.

Belonging isn’t a destination I’ve arrived at, it’s something I’m still creating, slowly and intentionally, right here in Austin.

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If you’re in a season of starting over, whether it’s a move, a new role, or simply a shift in who you are becoming, I want you to know: you’re not alone.

It’s okay if the days feel slow. It’s okay if the quiet feels heavy. It’s okay if you’re still figuring it all out.

You don’t have to rush into clarity. You don’t have to have your purpose fully defined. You are allowed to grow roots here, slowly, softly, steadily.

And in the process, you are still valuable. Still seen. Still deeply loved.

A Prayer for You:

Lord, for the woman reading this who feels unsteady in her new beginning—remind her that she hasn’t been forgotten. Show her that purpose still exists in the quiet. That peace can still be found in the slow. That beauty can rise even in unfamiliar places. Anchor her in Your presence. Help her release the pressure to perform and rest in who You created her to be. May her new beginning be filled with grace, with gentle rhythms, and with the deep knowing that she belongs. Right here. Right now. Amen.