06/14/2026
At the time, it was devastating. A friend from church was supposed to host our backyard wedding, but needed to cancel. "I've long driven by the entrance to Wesley Gardens, but never gone down the driveway," she said. "Maybe go see what's there?" This honest "no" sixteen years ago led to thousands of unforeseen yes's. Two months later, that driveway led to our wedding reception; we ran through fireworks down the dock and then boated away on Moon River.
Two years later, Micah was wanting a job transition, so we sent an email voicing that if ever they needed new caretakers, we'd be all in. Having recently finished my masters in spiritual formation and soul care, and Micah an arts & crafts renovation on 36th Street, the possibilities were magical. A year later (to the week), we began interviews and the magic slowly shaped into our new reality. Elliana was two and Eden was six months.
We lived in the White Cottage while Micah renovated our now (caretaker’s) house. From there, he chipped away at full re-do's of the Main House and Cottages, built a website and trails and planted trees and raised chickens. We brought Aaliya home from India. I released a book on motherhood and then a children's book, followed by a surprise fourth release from my womb. To say the least, these last eleven years have been oh-so-formative. And we also sense that it's time to move on. We're not sure yet the vocational route (prayers appreciated!), but close on a house (in Savannah) in mid-July.
Though we're stepping away from "retreat ministry" for now, we're eager to learn more about Christ as our deepest retreat, regardless of where we find ourselves. Place matters, absolutely, but it's not everything. That said, it's not lost on us the incredible privilege of stewarding this picturesque place for a decade plus. We carry countless memories of countless saints we've crossed paths with; to each of you, thank you. You have blessed us so. Wesley Gardens will forever be a treasured place for our family, and we hope for you, as well. May any who continue down this driveway be drawn deeper somehow into the majesty of our Maker and His creation. May it remain a "thin space," as the ancient Celtic Christians called it, where the distance between heaven and earth shrinks.
Until next time, beloveds!
