In today’s episode, we’re saying goodbye to the house that held us this past year. Not our forever home. Not our first home. But a rental that saw deep change, quiet survival, and surprising joy. We’re reflecting on what it means to move out—why it feels like a hard line in the sand—and how you carry both gratitude and grief when a chapter closes. New Design of the week is live - ⁠⁠https://shop.walkinlove.com/⁠⁠ Brooke's Newsletter - ⁠https://brookemousetis.beehiiv.com/⁠ If you love what we do and want more behind-the-scenes fun, bonus episodes, and exclusive content, join the walk in love. Podcast Membership today! 👉 Join here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://walkinlove.supercast.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ 🤙 Ask us anything for a special episode: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://walkinlove.supercast.com/ama⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Three easy ways to support the podcast: ✅ Tell a friend—Text your BFF, your spouse, or your cool aunt about the show! ✅ Shop walk in love.—Snag your favorite tees while they last! ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Shop here⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ✅ Go Solar in PA, NJ or DE! —Save money, help the planet, and earn big referral bonuses! ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Learn more⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Plus, don’t forget to join our Facebook group to connect with the community! ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Join here⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ 🏠 A Liturgy for Leaving a Home (Rental Edition) For the home that held us, though it was never ours— we give thanks. For keys handed over in transition, for the first time we crossed the threshold, for the echo of furniture being moved in— we remember. For the unexpected gift of these walls, for the sidewalk loops and stroller walks, for the cracked window that let in morning light, for the air where dreams and prayers hung quietly— we are grateful. This was a space of becoming. Of trying. Of surviving. Of starting again. Of bringing home a baby. Of holding joy in one hand and exhaustion in the other. Of learning what our rhythms could carry. Of changing, not all at once, but a little more each day. We didn’t know how much we would grow here. But we did. And now it’s time to go. So we close this chapter with full hearts— not because the house was perfect, but because it was provision. It was shelter. It was laughter. It was the right place for this version of us. May we remember that even the temporary places can shape us. Even the not-forever homes can hold something eternal. Even a rental can be a refuge. So here’s to the houses that held us— for a while, for a season, for what we needed then. And now, with arms full of boxes and hearts full of memory, we bless this space one last time— not as a final destination, but as a waypoint on the path You’ve always known. Amen Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices