For awhile it seemed like my life was moving backwards. At 21 I bought my first place. It was this cute 2 bedroom townhouse with an attached garage. Then we moved to Atlanta where we lived in a 500 square foot studio in a high rise. We gained a sweet view of downtown, but we no longer had a washer and dryer. Had to go to the basement for that. There was a parking garage with one assigned spot. Poor hubby had to fight for an open place. Then we moved to the suburbs of Chicago. Here we lost the air conditioning and the dishwasher. Laundry in the cellar, had to go outside to get to it. But at least we could park in the driveway. Then we moved into the city. We got the ac back, but lost parking. Had to find it on the street and dig out our spot when it snowed. Still no washer and dryer, no dishwasher. Also, there was no sunshine. First floor apartments with builings 3 feet away don’t allow for much sun to penetrate. At the next place we got the sunshine back (third floor), but lost the ac again. No ac, no dishwasher, no washer/dryer, no parking. Three flights of stairs and a newborn. Whew!
After a year and a half there we finally were able to buy a house. An actual house! With a yard! It was smaller than the garden we had when I was growing up, but I was thrilled to have it. We got back the ac, the garage, the washer/dryer, and four years after we moved in we put in a dishwasher. We did so much to that house. Complete gut rehab of the second floor. While I was pregnant. We have a picture of me five months pregnant swinging a sledge hammer busting out plaster. We finished it two weeks before my second son was born. This was a rough time physically, financially, and mentally. At one point a rat got in our house because there was a hole in the concrete of the basement. A RAT!! IN OUR HOUSE!!! Then we got busted and fined by city for doing work without a permit. There I was, eight months pregnant, standing before a judge, begging for mercy. See, where I grew up, if you wanted to do work on your house, then you did work on your house.
Our 8 years in Chicago were hard. Of course there are the basic Chicago things that all Chicagoans deal with. Harsh winters that just won’t end (seriously, nothing blooms until the end of April). Traffic that moves so slow you might as well walk (once, it took me over an hour to drive 4 miles). People that speak harshly and are unfriendly (people would look at me funny if I smiled and said hello). The permits, tickets, and fees that make you paranoid to drive your car anywhere (we just considered it donations to the city). But we also dealt with my hubby losing his job, opening and running a money devouring business, living in crappy apartments, living through a rehab, and a rat.
I wanted to leave so badly. I cried so many tears, begging God to get us out of there. The worst it got happened in the middle day coming home from running errands. I was turning left at an awkward intersection and almost hit a pedestrian. He started yelling at me that he had a green light (I did not have a turn arrow). Here’s the thing though, he was not at a crosswalk. The crosswalk was on the other side of this intersection (and for good reason). So I yelled back that the green lights are for cars and that he didn’t have a crosswalk-IDIOT!!! By the way, my kids were in the back seat. My older son was 4 at the time and he started crying. I asked why he was crying, and his response was, “You scared me.” At this point I started crying and called my hubby (all husbands just love getting this kind of call while at work). I told him that he had to get me out of this city. I hated the city, and I hated who I was becoming while living in it.
We tried so many times to get out. Once, we were seriously considering a job opportunity for my hubby in Seattle. He made it through three rounds of interviews until that door was closed. Praise The Lord that it was. I would have been even more miserable there. There was an opportunity to move back home to Louisville at one point that I was truly disappointed that it didn’t work out. When we were actually at the point that we could move, we thought we would move back to Atlanta. That seemed to make the most sense. It’s a big city with lots of job opportunities, great weather (in my opinion), and we still have friends there. But alas, this was not to be either.
The Lord had something even greater in mind. He gave us even more than what we asked for. Atlanta would not have solved all the problem that we were dealing with in Chicago. It still has a high cost of living, it still has bad crime, it still has bad schools, and of course it still has bad traffic. I didn’t know a thing about Greenville, SC before my husband had his phone interview phone for the position here. The first time either of us ever step foot in Greenville was when we came with the moving van. We have not been disappointed.
Not everybody is miserable is Chicago. I have dear friends that live there and they love it. It’s home for them, and I am thrilled that they feel that way. There is such peace in feeling “home”. But not once in 8 years did we feel “home”. And we had many moments of joy there, including friendships that will age with me. But we knew that we were not meant to stay there. Even though we struggled, we knew that we were where we needed to be for that long season in our lives. We knew it wasn’t time to leave yet, no matter how desperately we wanted to. Waiting is difficult.
Wait for The Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for The Lord. Psalm 27:14
We learned that we had to be patient. And we had to wait for The Lord’s perfect timing. I’m relieved that when doors were closed we didn’t try to force them open, although I was standing there with a crowbar feeling tempted to do so. I would pray, “Lord help me feel at home!” I wanted to want to be there. Then I prayed, “help me feel at peace.” And I would for a period of time. Sometimes we are called to stand and fight (like David and Goliath), and sometimes we are told to run away (like Joseph and Mary fleeing to Egypt). I believe we never felt at home because we were never meant to stay.
It takes trust to learn patience. So if you find yourself in a situation that you feel desperate to escape, be encouraged! Trust that The Lord knows, and cares. Know that His timing is perfect. And there is nothing wrong with crying while you wait.
This is the third post in a series on Faith, Trust, Surrender.
