Hola friends! After a year of traveling around the world, I feel it’s only natural to share some insights, especially about something that has truly changed the way I see life.

For starters, let’s be real—there are days we miss having a home. Our home. The one in Georgia with the creaky floors, the cozy corners, and all the memories baked into its walls. It’s been a strange shift calling it our “old house” when we haven’t found a new one to take its place. That house was the backdrop to so many of our family’s best moments, and the only home Claire and Hallie really remember. And don’t even get me started on Trevor. Our sweet cocker spaniel still pops into our conversations and our hearts—especially when we spot a dog on the street that looks just like him. Same floppy ears, same soulful eyes. It stings a little, but we know he’s off making new memories with a loving family who adores him (and hopefully spoils him with walks and treats like we did).

Now, let’s talk about shared spaces. Our kids have had to learn the fine art of compromise—like who gets the top bunk, or how to share a single bathroom without a full-blown sibling standoff. Character-building, right? And then there’s the kitchen shuffle. Every new place comes with its own mystery drawer of utensils (or lack thereof), and I’ve become a master of “make it work” meals. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m cooking with until I open the cabinets—and that’s after I’ve played a game of “find the ingredients” at the local market. Add in the fun of baking at high altitudes (because apparently cookies have altitude preferences too), and you’ve got yourself a culinary adventure. If only I had Mary Poppins’ magical bag—I’d pack my favorite mixer, pampered chef tools, seasonings and spices, with maybe a little extra patience for good measure.

Let’s just say—full-time travel isn’t your average vacation. It’s a lifestyle, with all the highs, hiccups, and holy-cow-what-are-we-doing moments rolled into one. Some days we feel like total pros, like we were born to wander the world (because well, we’re doing it). Other days? We’re googling “how to survive foreign foods” while picking chicken feet out of our bowls of soup at the local restaurant. But even with the chaos, the beauty, and the occasional bout of homesickness, I wouldn’t trade this life for anything… well, maybe for my purple mattress- best night sleep ever.

Over the past year, our family has been asked to let go of a lot—and some days, it really does feel like we’ve traded in “more” for “less.” Less stuff, less space, fewer routines. But when we zoom out and look at the bigger picture, what we’ve gained makes all of that feel small. The growth, the memories, the deeper faith, the unexpected joys—they’ve filled us up in ways no storage unit ever could. It’s opened my heart to what sacrifice truly means when it’s for the Lord—not just giving something up, but giving it over with trust, love, and a willingness to be reshaped. It’s less about loss and more about leaning in, letting go, and watching Him fill the space with something far greater.

Recently, while attending an endowment session in the temple with my husband, a familiar phrase stirred something new in me. Though I’d heard it countless times before, this time it landed differently. It was about the law of sacrifice—how it exists because of the atoning sacrifice of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and the first commandment broken by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

Our Heavenly Father, in His mercy, gave us the law of sacrifice not just as a way to repent—to repair what’s broken—but as a divine invitation to deepen our faith and trust in His perfect plan. It’s a sacred key that unlocks miracles we never imagined possible within ourselves.

Our journey began with selling our home and most of our possessions—keeping only what we needed or couldn’t replace. But as we’ve traveled, God has gently asked for more: our time, our comforts, our perspectives, and our habits. Each request has stretched us, revealing where we can invite more of Christ into our lives.

I used to think of sacrifice as giving up something I wanted for something I needed—a trade-off that felt dutiful but uninspiring. But I’ve come to see how far off that view was. Over the past year, I’ve learned that while sacrifice may lead us into discomfort, it’s not meant to diminish us. It’s meant to expand us. It multiplies our joy in ways the world simply can’t.

In Italy, we learned the value of prioritizing church. Our Ward was over an hour away, and attending meant more than just Sundays—it meant weekday youth and Primary activities too. It would’ve been easy to say it was too far, especially with the occasional upset child in tow. But that sacrifice of time brought us into a circle of friendship and belonging that made us feel truly at home.

In Poland, we gave up our electronics (mostly!) to embrace rural farm life. I’ve never seen my kids happier. They spent their days outside, playing with animals, helping on the farm, and connecting with a new friend. We worked with our hands, lived off the land, and found joy in simplicity. That small sacrifice of screens led to deep connection, gratitude, and memories we’ll carry forever.

And here in Arequipa, we’ve been nudged far outside our comfort zone. Yet in that discomfort, we’ve discovered the beauty of family—both our own and the families around us. Many of our fellow saints live in small, shared spaces with extended relatives, and they’re happy about it. They’ve welcomed us with open arms and taken us in like family from the start. Though we may see they have little in comparison to what we are familiar with, they speak with overflowing gratitude for the abundance they feel. And truly, when you have your family, what more could you need? They are, after all, the only relations we take with us beyond this life.

I’m learning that sacrifice isn’t just about giving something up—it’s about shifting our focus. A change of heart, a willingness to do whatever God asks, and a realignment of our desires with what matters most: family, spiritual growth, and remembering who we truly are as beloved children of God.

The more I practice this law, the more I see how generous the Lord is with His blessings. My joy has grown in ways I never expected. I’m finding myself more content with what little I do have, feeling less hungry for what I don’t (it’s still a practice), and more trusting in God’s perfect plan for our family. He has invited us to participate in something unique and rewarding and I’m learning to want what He wants for me, even when it looks different from what I imagined.

My friends, God is so good. He wants to give the best to His children, especially when we choose Him wholeheartedly. And while sacrifice might look different for each of us (what feels big to me might be a breeze for you), they are known to the Lord and He overcompensates with blessings that are eternal! God will always invite His children to give up things of this world for something even greater- things that last, that matter, that fill us up in ways we didn’t know we needed.

Sacrifice is not a punishment—it’s a gift. It may come at the cost of experiencing some discomfort, loss, heartache, humility, or a Thanksgiving feast shared at a table with family, but that’s because on the other side there is far greater joy than we can imagine. And that, my friends, makes every step of this wild, wonderful journey worth it.

We are often asked, “how long are you guys doing this whole travel thing?” And honestly? We don’t know. We didn’t exactly plan this out on a spreadsheet—it was an invitation from the Lord, and we said yes. So here we are, on His errand, following His timeline, and trusting His purposes. He keeps nudging us forward, and while we can’t see the full picture yet, we know He can. And that’s enough for us to keep going—one country, one leap of faith at a time. Keeps it exciting!