When the Universe Hits Pause: A Car, a Delay, and a Bigger Lesson…

Our car, which my daughter drives, has been sitting in Philadelphia since late Friday afternoon. That’s three days ago. Just 51 miles away. Close enough to reach, yet still out of reach. And every day that passes, it gets a little more frustrating.

We were expecting it to arrive by now. We planned, rearranged, and made space, emotionally and literally, for it to show up. But it hasn’t. It’s just been sitting there. No movement. No updates. Just… stillness.

And if I’m being honest, it’s taken everything in me to not let the frustration bubble over.

But here’s the thing I’ve come to realize in times like these: Sometimes the universe puts things on pause for a reason.

I don’t always understand why, and I won’t pretend I do now. But I’ve seen it enough in my life to recognize the pattern. When there’s a delay, when something doesn’t happen exactly when I want it to, it usually turns out that it was never supposed to.

Maybe this wait is protecting us. Maybe it’s redirecting us. Maybe it’s just slowing us down so something else can catch up.

Maybe that car, sitting in the city, is keeping us from a moment or a road or a situation we were never meant to cross paths with. AND maybe it’s not about the car at all.

Maybe it’s about trust.

And patience.

And letting go of control, even when everything inside of me wants to scream, “Just deliver my damn car already!”

So I’m sitting with it. All of it – the irritation, the surrender, the mystery. Because I know that even when things don’t make sense, there’s often something bigger at work. Something unseen.

And when the car does arrive? We’ll appreciate it a little more. Not just because we waited, but because we trusted the timing.


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Still Unpacking and Still Processing

Some boxes aren’t just cardboard. Some are emotional.

It’s been four weeks since the move, and I still have a bedroom full of boxes. Cluttered corners. Stacks that make me sigh just looking at them. Every morning I wake up and think: I just want my room back. My space. My peace. My normal.

But the truth is, moving across the country meant leaving a lot behind, not just things, but pieces of a life that held meaning. It’s honestly mind-blowing how much we had to let go of back in Tahoe. Furniture. Keepsakes. Familiar comforts. Even my daughter’s car had to stay behind… until now.

Thanks to my dad, her car is finally on a transport truck headed for Maryland — so she’ll have wheels for college. That moment gave me a breath of relief, a tiny win in the middle of this chaos. Because even when it feels like everything is too much, little wins still matter. And that car will give my daughter a little more freedom to explore as well as not rely on me to take her to school at the end of August.

The truth is, it’s not easy. I’m over the mess. I’m over the boxes. I want my room back. And I want to feel settled, not constantly like I’m digging for socks or that one charger that’s still hiding somewhere under a pile labeled “Misc. Bedroom.”

Unpacking is exhausting. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. I’m realizing it’s not just about stuff. It’s about letting go and starting over while still holding the weight of everything that came before.

Maryland is a fresh start, yes. But new beginnings come with growing pains. And sometimes, a bedroom full of clutter feels like a reminder that I’m still in the middle of it.

But here’s the thing: boxes don’t stay forever. They will get unpacked. My room will feel like mine again. And this chapter — even with all its messiness — will be part of the story I one day look back on with pride.

One box at a time. One breath at a time.


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