Note: This is Part Four. To start from the beginning CLICK HERE.
Saturday morning Steven left his hotel with a co-worker and arrived at the car rental business a little after 9. If at all possible, he’s always early. This time it paid off. He was told when he reserved his car the night before they wouldn’t open until 10, but once again God helped us out, and that information was wrong. He was headed home by 9:30 am. When he called to tell me he was headed home, a huge wave of relief and peace washed over me.
I have to say that I am always amazed at my husband’s navigational skills. He took a much different route on the trip home than when they had driven out there. He drove home with no map and no GPS. I’m quite certain I would have wound up sitting under an overpass on the East Coast, bawling my eyes out and lost as a goose if I had attempted that.
I really don’t remember a whole lot about that day. I had planned to stay home from church, but a couple of hours in to our morning I realized the boys and I would go crazy if we sat at home all day. Yes, 40 weeks and 3 days preggo, I loaded up two toddlers and took them to church by myself. Yes, I’m crazy. Note to self: Never do that again. It was exhausting, but it was just the distraction I needed. When I got the boys loaded into the truck and started the ignition, Every Storm Runs out of Rain by Gary Allen was playing. I sat back as another wave of peace like only God can give washed over me. I knew our storm was running out of rain. Finally. (Though at that point I was just thinking the immediate. I had no idea that another storm in our life was also running out of rain. More on that later though.) That song had been everywhere I turned since Steven had left the week before. We headed off to church, and when the song ended, I switched the station to KLOVE. I Need a Miracle by Third Day was playing. Again, a song that I had heard over and over all week – always when I needed it most and when I was on my knees praying for a miracle. Then it was Praise You in this Storm. Oh how I cried! All three of those songs had been played over and over any time I was near a radio the entire time Steven was gone, and then on the last day, to hear them all at the same time. I felt God’s reassuring hand on mine, letting me know to just keep praising Him because he had not forgotten us.
When we got to church, I dried the tears and put on some mascara. (That makes every day better.) I laughed as person after person stopped me to say, “I thought for sure you’d had that baby when you weren’t here last week!” Nope, still waiting. (At that point I was 90% sure the baby growing inside me was a girl based solely on the fact that I was 3 days overdue and all the drama!) But I was beaming when friends would ask about Steven and I got to say, “He’s on his way!!”
I tried to stay busy the rest of the day with cleaning, playing with the boys, and resting when I could. I’m always a nervous wreck when he drives long distances, and even more so when he’s traveling alone. It was all I could do not to call him every 30 minutes. We did check in with one another every couple of hours throughout the day, and at 9:38 that night, my amazing husband walked through our back door. Relief. Happiness. He was home. God is good. God is faithful. I went to bed feeling very, very BLESSED.