Waiting on the Green Light
Good stories take time to unfold, like bad storms need time to weather. It’s scary, though, isn’t it? Waiting for the pages of your book to write themselves. Waiting out the storm. Waiting for all the stars to align. Waiting on the green light. We spent 6 months in that place, though truthfully, I think we spend a lifetime here. But for this particular season, we waited 6 months for God to say go. To turn the light on and free us from the dark. There was so much promise here, but we didn’t see it then. Because the waiting is dark and lonely and I had all these questions.
Our hearts were leading us to plant new roots and we truly felt that He had been planting seeds for us to grow elsewhere. There were all these signs leading us to Pittsburgh, and it just felt like moving would give us more access to Justin as he travels for work. We put our house up for sale without ever really having a plan. We just believed that everything would fall into place and to be really honest, we didn’t want to deal with contingencies or a second mortgage, so washing our hands of our home first seemed like the right thing to do.
But then our house sold within just days of putting it on the market. When people asked what we were going to do we joked that we were just winging it. And wasn’t that the truth. I mean, who did we think we were putting ourselves into a situation where we might need to couch hop until we figured out where the heck we were moving our family to. We didn’t even know what part of Pittsburgh we were going to live, we just thought we’d throw a dart at the map and head south. But we trusted that God would take us to where we needed to go, whenever that was going to be.
I have this recurring dream where I have somewhere really important to be, but I just cannot get out the door. The hands of the clock are spinning out of control and I can’t get dressed fast enough because something is literally holding me back or when I try to run, my legs will only move in slow motion. It’s terrifying. And that’s what life felt in those really dark moments of waiting. It was like something was holding us back as we tried to run out the door of the place we called home, but our time was running out there. We were surely in way over our heads and when we finally made the leap to look for a place in Pittsburgh to plant new roots, none of it felt right anymore. I remember looking back at Addie in the car while driving through a quaint little town my sister in law suggested we visit and I watched her peering out the window as tears rolled down her cheeks. I knew exactly what her tender little heart was feeling because I felt it too. We veered off course and headed to downtown Pittsburgh to regroup and before getting out of the car, we prayed. We have never done that as a family, but we held hands and just asked God to show us where to go from there.
In theory, our house had already sold to another family and so essentially, we were without a place to live. When we got back home the next day, we called everyone we knew that had a connection to a rental home. Our lives rapidly began to feel more out of place than it did when we thought we were uprooting our family to another state. But in the midst of all this chaos, something incredible was happening around us. I witnessed people coming together and forming a circle of support around us. People were praying for us and rejoicing with tears in their eyes at our decision to stay. They were calling their own connections and driving around town looking for local rental signs in people’s yards. I had felt the sting of loneliness and isolation for so long that this circle of support diminished every worry I had, and I just felt like no matter what was going to happen we were going to be ok. It didn’t matter if we were living under a bridge in small town Olean, NY or if we had to cram everything we owned into a small apartment. We were staying right where belonged, where our roots were already deeply embedded, and that was all that mattered to me.
And then.
We were told that because we didn’t sign the one last contract binding us to sell our home, we could actually stay. We didn’t have to pack up all of our belongings and cram them into some small, foreign space. This home where we’ve built 7 years’ worth of memories was ours to keep. The home that had all of the markings of our little family. The home that Justin invited us into when we became 3. The home that has housed our two dogs, our cat and Addie’s two fish. I have always said that home is where you make it and wherever you and your family are at together. But this home was ours and its four walls contain all the love we’ve shared together; this was our safe place. We took this as Gods green light. In essence, the green light was never to go, it was always to stay. Home was right where we were, where the roots had already been planted. I realized that this was meant to be. All of it. Putting our home up for sale, selling it just a few days afterwards, the worry, the isolation and all those signs that led us to Pittsburgh. God led us to all these places so that we could see that home was right here all along. We were never meant to leave, and He would soon show us why. We felt at peace with this place we were in and felt like a new season was upon us. One that would not entail any planning, but rather, just living.
And then.
Just 5 days after deciding to stay in our hometown, we received a phone call asking if we would be foster parents to a newborn baby boy. We had literally just sold everything we collected when were preparing to becoming foster parents and months prior we told our case worker that we were moving. It was so unexpected and truthfully it was not part of the plan. We had finally accepted a long time ago that we were only going to be a family of 3, and really, we were ok with that. There was so much goodness there – in accepting, I mean. It meant no more infertility treatments or health scares or loss. No more grief and heartache waiting on something that wasn’t meant to be. It meant being genuinely content with the life we’ve been given and the people that were in it.
But.
My heart was screaming yes and as soon as we decided yes together, Justin, Addie and I were at the hospital waiting to bring home a tiny little person who had already found a place in my heart before having even met him. In no way could we pass this incredible opportunity up and risk having wondered about the what ifs for the rest of our lives. It didn’t matter how long we’d be called to do this, it only mattered that we chose to do it.
When the nurse wheeled him to the window of the nursery, I took one look at him and realized why God asked us to stay. This was the green light all along. I felt peace and love and all of these other things that I can’t put into words. And when I held him for the first time, I felt at home. I saw God’s light shining down on this baby and got a true glimpse into this plan that He had already mastered. He had been in the waiting the entire time. There was so much promise there, we just didn’t know it then. To get to this place, we had to grow through our circumstances. God was molding us all along for this.
Be still and know that I am God. Psalms 46:10.
Still. Its been my word for the year. And oh, how He taught me what that truly means. If someone would have told me two months ago that these would be the lines written into our story, I would have begged to rewrite them myself. I thought that being still was waiting on my own plans, but I have learned that being still is about obedience. It’s surrendering all control and following along with the plan that He made, not my own. God wrote this story and mastered His plans for us a long time ago. And though this is only the beginning, I’m in no hurry to get to the end. Because right now it doesn’t feel as if we’re in the waiting. I’ve learned that when you are truly able to be present in the sacred moments that are given to you, the waiting doesn’t exist because its in those moments that you are really living. Its in those moments that your book is being written and to fully understand the next chapters that are about to unfold, you must be present for the current one.
We have waited to be parents to another child for a long time but we thought that God closed that door on us long ago. Because there was so much heartache in trying to get through that door, so we tried making other plans. But He wasn’t done with us yet. Its true that our plans are never greater than His, He just might make us wait awhile before He reveals those plans. God wrote this sweet baby’s beginning into the middle of our story and no matter where this story takes us tomorrow, our lines will always read the same. It’s the kind of story that has no end no matter where we go from here because this kind of love lasts a lifetime. Its this part of the story that will dictate all the rest. And for once, we aren’t rushing through the lines to get to the next chapter.
All of that to say, hold on. Know that it might be dark right now, but hope is waiting for you. There is promise written there and God is working behind the scenes to unfold your story. He’s in the waiting. And in the waiting, there is goodness. You have to believe that.
