The Choice to Change Locations

”The moment of surrender, the crossroads where comfort dies and calling begins”

The first real decision in my transformation didn’t happen in some big dramatic moment. It started with a simple vacation.

My son’s mother and I decided to take our boy to Sisters, Oregon for the 4th of July — to spend time with her parents, get out of Reno for a bit, and just breathe. The funny thing is, for a couple already in the middle of talking divorce and sorting through what “amicable separation” even means, the trip was actually… good.

We did the tourist thing. Checked out the small shops. Drove through the small town. Ate at little Sisters Bakery (Best Scones on Earth). And I noticed something that stuck with me: there were no stoplights on the main street — and no one seemed to be in a hurry. The people there were kind. Like, genuinely kind. It felt different than home. Calmer. Happier.

Back in Reno, life felt heavy — like everyone was chasing something and never catching it. But in Sisters, time felt slower. People smiled more. There was space to breathe. It wasn’t just a small town — it was a rhythm my soul hadn’t realized it was missing.

We stayed on my in-laws’ ranch with this unreal view of the Three Sisters Mountains. Every morning, I’d wake up, wrap myself in a throw blanket, grab a hot cup of coffee with cream straight from the dairy cow, and sit outside on the patio. That silence, that view, that peace… it hit different.

Then there was the nature. Man — photos don’t even come close. The forests, the waterfalls, the way the air cooled you off even when it was a hundred degrees outside. It was like God’s air conditioning — and maybe his way of saying, “See? I’m still here.”

But here’s where everything changed.

On the drive back home — six and a half hours of quiet roads and heavy thoughts — my son’s mother turned to me and said,

“I know we’re separating, but… would you ever want to move to Sisters or were you joking about it?”

My first reaction? “Umm… yeah, I was joking about that that.”

But I didn’t say it out loud. I just said, “Let me think about it.”

And somewhere around hour three, something deep inside me — that still, steady voice that I now know was God — whispered,

“Yes. You should do this.”

I asked, “Why?”

The voice answered,

“Because you’ll be happier there. You can raise your son better there. And everything you’re curious about is waiting for you there.”

That hit hard. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t part of any plan. But it felt true.

So after a while, I turned to her and said,

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

And that was it — the choice that changed everything.

I didn’t know it then, but that moment in the car — that quiet, six-hour drive through the middle of nowhere — was the start of my rebirth.
Not just a new address, but a new alignment.

That was the day I stopped running from my life… and started walking toward who I was meant to become.