Micah wake up. Train. Beep Beep!” I knew things were bad when Micah began telling me, in his own language, that the train had woken him up the night before.
It was almost six months since moving to North Carolina, and things were going great. We were beginning to get plugged in with the local community, meeting folks in the area, and Micah had a little routine going as well. Moreover, we had family from up north move down a month after we moved, so we could not have been happier. However, the spacious townhouse with wood flooring, granite countertops, and stainless-steel appliances that we signed a lease for while still in Illinois (see why in this blog post), did not turn out to be what we’d hoped for.
As it turned out, the house is situated next to a railroad crossing, which means every time a train goes by, whether that’s 6 AM (an hour before we usually wake up), 2 PM (during Micah’s nap), or 1 AM, we heard it. At first, it didn’t bother us much, but the closer and closer we got to the arrival of our baby girl, the thought of a train waking her or us up didn’t sit well. Moreover, it was getting increasingly difficult for me to navigate the four flights of stairs as the pregnancy progressed. And lastly, we figured it might be nice to be closer to the hospital where I plan to deliver, since it is my second baby after all, and things might move quicker this time around.
All these reasons, superficial as they may seem, brought us to the point where we decided we should start looking around at other options for a place to stay. But, there was one little problem. We were in a one-year lease. How would we get out? Like we usually do, we prayed. The sign I prayed for this time was that our landlord would be understanding and willing to work with us in our transition. In one of the houses we owned in Illinois, we had a renter vacate the property without adequate notice and left us with the task of paying two mortgages. We knew how it felt, and we definitely didn’t want to do that to someone else.
When DJ spoke to our landlord, he told him the situation, and he was more than understanding. In fact, he shared with us the struggles he went through when his wife was pregnant, so he entirely empathetic to our situation. We could not have asked for more! That being said, although he was open to us leaving on such short notice, he mentioned that if another renter could not be found before the upcoming month, we would be responsible for that month’s rent. Needless to say, paying rent two times over, with a baby on the way, did not sound appealing. So, we moved forward, deciding to leave it to God to figure out that “small” detail.
Over the course of the following week, we packed, moved, and unpacked (like complete pros at this point, given all of our recent moves), all while the first of the following month inched closer and closer. And still, we had no renter to take our place. I had prayed that God would provide someone to take over by the 1st of the month, but the 1st came and went without a word. Then came the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th. I knew that by the 5th of the month, rent for the property would be considered late, so if nothing happened by then, we would have to pay.
Then, in the evening of that fifth day, DJ received a call! Our landlord had renters in another property he owned who needed a place to stay while fixes were being done on their house. He wanted to show them our place, and if they liked it, they would stay there in our stead. Sure enough, they saw the house that evening, and decided to move in!
Funny enough, as seamlessly as it all worked out, I can honestly say I wasn’t surprised. I think that’s how God likes to operate. Not in our time, but on time—even if that means things happen in the “midnight hour.”
Now that we’re all moved in (again), and pretty much settled, it’s time to get things ready for this baby because she’s almost here!