TWENTY-SEVEN houses in thirty-three years, our family has become experts in the art of moving.
That number still amazes me when I say it out loud. Each move has been more than a change of address; it has been a lesson in resilience, creativity, and stewardship. This week, we found ourselves unpacking once again, and this time into a government cottage, old and weathered, yet waiting to be revived into a home.
Twenty-seven houses in thirty-three years, each one a chapter in our family’s story.
The cottage, however, was no easy gift. It was an old wooden structure, abandoned for years and eaten away by termites. For a month, we poured time, effort, and money into repairs until it became habitable again. Some people shook their heads. “Why spend on a house you don’t own?” But I see it differently. I’m investing in comfort, in peace of mind. After all, I’d spend far more for a few nights in a hotel. Why not spend on the place where I live every day? For me, it’s stewardship: caring for what has been entrusted, even temporarily.
Comfort and peace are worth investing in, even in a house you don’t own.
My children, meanwhile, have become experts in the science of packing: the careful labeling, the efficient boxing, the discipline of order. But they’ve also mastered the art of rearranging: the creativity of turning bare rooms into warm, welcoming spaces. Moving has taught them that home is not fixed; it is something you create wherever you go.
Home is not defined by permanence, but by the love poured into it.
And that’s the hidden beauty of renting. It allows you to change environments, to discover new neighborhoods, to breathe fresh air in unfamiliar places. Each move is a chance to reset, to reimagine, to start again.
So, is moving house a burden? Perhaps. But it is also a craft. It is the science of logistics and problem-solving, and the art of imagination and belonging. For us, it has become a way of life, a reminder that home is not about permanence, but about the love and effort we pour into the space we occupy.
Moving is both science and art, efficiency and imagination, logistics and belonging.
In the end, moving house has never been just about shifting furniture or repainting walls. It has been about resilience, imagination, and the quiet rituals of starting over. Each move reminds us that permanence is fleeting, but belonging is something we choose and create daily. The walls may change, but the laughter and love remain constant. And perhaps that is the true science and art of moving house, finding comfort not in the structure itself, but in the spirit we carry wherever we go.
“For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.” – Hebrews 13:14
Ruth Sitchon Morales is a full-time instructor at a state university in Mindanao, specializing in foreign language education. She is a resource speaker, freelance writer, and textbook author, and is currently pursuing doctoral studies in applied linguistics. Along with her husband and their three children, Ruth served as an ESL teacher and a cross-cultural worker in China, Malaysia, Thailand, and Africa. Her formal studies in foreign languages, enriched by immersion in diverse foreign and local cultures, have given her a broad perspective on life and a wealth of stories to share with her readers.
