The Porch Light

Sometimes what helps us keep going isn’t advice or a solution. It’s simply having somewhere to land. In this Sunday Seed, Charlotte shares a college memory that comes full circle years later, exploring belonging, connection, and the quiet power of being a place where someone can rest, feel welcome, and catch their breath.

Thanks so much for listening!

Connect with me:
Email
charlotte@charlotteedwardscoaching.com
Instagram
@charlottepedwards
Facebook
@Charlotte Padgett Edwards
Website: https://charlotteedwardscoaching.com 


Copyright © 2026 The Seed Project. All rights reserved.

Transcript

Copy Transcript Copied

0:01

Hey, friend. Welcome to Send A Seed. I'm Charlotte Edwards, and I believe small seeds create big impact. Each week, we'll plant one. Let's dig in When I was in college, I lived in San Diego, and my mom and stepfather lived outside Pasadena. It was about a two-hour drive, depending on the traffic, which in Southern California can mean just about anything. I remember one day I was having a hard time. I can't remember now exactly what was going on, but nothing dramatic happened. I remember feeling anxious and unsure of myself. I was in that weird stage of life where you're trying really hard to prove that you can be independent while also feeling a little lonely and wondering if you actually know what you're doing, and that day, I just wanted to go home. I got in my car and drove up the Five freeway. I didn't call my mom and tell her I was coming. Back then, there were flip phones, and I don't even remember if mine could text. Either way, I got in the car and drove I knew I wasn't moving back home. I wasn't gonna stay long. I needed one night I pulled in the driveway and the house was dark, but the outside lights were on. Nobody had turned them on for me 'cause nobody knew I was coming. But I remember seeing those lights and immediately feeling a little bit better. I was home. When I walked through the door, my mom was surprised to see me. She gave me a big hug. She didn't ask me 20 questions or need some big explanation of why I'd suddenly shown up. She just welcomed me home I don't even remember what, I told her that night. I remember how it felt. I remember feeling a sense of relief that I had somewhere to land I've thought about that a couple times recently, especially now that I'm a parent. I realize how lucky I was because not everybody has a home that they want to run back to Sometimes that place isn't the house that you grew up in. It might be a grandparent's house, a friend's kitchen table. It could be someone you met much later in life. I think what matters most is having somewhere where you can let your guard down, even if it's just for a little while. Somewhere where you don't have to explain yourself before you're welcome in. Somewhere to land. Over this past year, I've gotten to see that from the other side. We've had quite a few cadets come stay with us on the weekends whenever they get leave. Some of them live too far away to go home, and by the time they get to our house, they're usually exhausted, hungry, and need a break. They come and eat, sleep, hang out on the couch, laugh, and get to relax a little while before they had to, have to head back to campus. And of course, they love Petey and George. I think Petey and George are their own little version of pet therapy. There's something about having a golden retriever next to you that makes life a little easier to chill out and slow down. I love having them here. I love hearing the stories. I love Being that place where they can let their guard down and not worry And sometimes, goodness, I can almost have up to 15 kids I realize how important that is. I hadn't connected the two parts until recently, until all of these cadets started coming over to my house remembering all those years ago when I was the college kid driving two hours when I needed some place to land And now I'm the mom opening the door, and there's something beautiful about that to me. I was so blessed to have somewhere I knew I could go, and now I get to create a little bit of that for somebody else. It also changed the way I think about what it means to really be there for people I think we assume helping people means that we need to do something to fix the problem, to give advice, or always find the right thing to say. But I'm not sure that's what people always need. Sometimes what helps us keep going is simply having somewhere we don't have to be strong for a little while. And that's what my mom gave me that night. She didn't solve whatever I was struggling with, and honestly, I don't think I needed her to. She gave me somewhere to catch my breath before I went back out and tried again. And when I look at these boys stretch out all over the couch, eating all the food, loving on Petey and George, and getting a little break before they head back, I realize that's what we're giving them too, somewhere to land for a little while I wonder how many times this happens in our lives without us even realizing it. How many people have given us a place to land when we needed one? How many times have we been that place for somebody else without even knowing how much it mattered? All those years ago, my mom had no idea I was driving towards her, but the light was on anyway. And now all these years later, I get to leave mine on for somebody else That's your seed. Now go plant something good