I leaned over the counter, glancing at my checklist. So much to do, so little time. I could hear our puppy snoring as he stretched out on the cool tile floor in the kitchen. It was Autumn in Louisiana, which meant the air was still uncomfortably warm and muggy. I pulled my hair back in a pony tail, fanning the back of my neck as I stared at the clock on the microwave. I could hear Barry’s music playing outside and looked over to see him loading the last round of boxes into the moving truck. The day was finally here. We were leaving for California in the morning. My watch beeped as I took in a deep breath and started walking towards the other room. It was time to see the results.
I made my way outside and felt a rush of excitement when Barry turned around to see me there, holding a positive pregnancy test in my hand. He pulled me close as I buried my face into his chest. Tears of joy soaking through his white T-shirt. God had answered our prayers. I was pregnant. We were moving. After all that time. The years of heartache. The hurtful words, the crushed dreams. And there we were. Two kids with a life changing journey in front of us and a baby on the way.
As we closed the door on the uHaul, we stepped back to take one final look at our house. When Barry found out that he got the job in California, we worried that we may not be able to sell it. But God knew. After the water heater exploded in our attic, we spent months fixing the place back up. Selecting paint colors and new flooring. All of our hard work paid off with a cash offer the day after our house was placed on the market. Something almost unheard of during the economic crisis of 2008. We were shocked and incredibly grateful. Combine that with the news of my pregnancy, we felt like God was breathing new life into our circumstances.
Resting against the back of the truck we remembered the first time we pulled into the drive way. The thrill of feeling like we had something to call our own. And there we were, yet again, feeling the surge of expectancy as we prepared to start a new life in California. We held hands and prayed. Asking God to bless our move. To bring us to green pastures, new friendships and a church we could trust.
And He did. Above and beyond what we could have asked or imagined. Our move to California brought healing. It created a place for God to be God in our lives again. A baby boy. Healthy leadership. A loving congregation. Best friends who became family. It all happened there. The names God dropped in our hearts at that dinner a few months prior were there to greet us, lead, and love us on our road back to healing. God was at work the entire time and even now when I think about it, I get chills.
God was for us. He has always been for us.