It was Thanksgiving week and instead of loading up our van, we found ourselves at the Pediatrician’s office; with a 103 fever and a confirmed flu case. My foot still ached from the heaviness of three weeks in an air cast boot (sounds much cooler than it is; trust me the “coolness factor” wears off within the first 48 hours) and now my heart ached for the three inconsolable children who would not get to spend their holiday at Nana and Grandpa’s house like we had planned (and already packed for).
And just when I was ready to put my feet up and rest, too. Truly rest.
Like kick my feet up on someone else’s couch and knit and watch
football; as odd of a combination as that may seem. I was ready to forget about chores and let
our laundry pile up in a plastic bag instead of a plastic basket. No dog hair to sweep up each morning; snuggle
with my kids while watching far too much TV; I was even going to share in the
meal prep instead of cooking it alone. Oh,
it was going to be so nice, I said.
We had been for weeks purposefully trying to whittle down
our schedule so that we could rest and enjoy some down time. We wanted a reason to be “bored”; an excuse
to catch up on some sleep. But with an
official quarantine and a prescription for Tamiflu was not the way we had envisioned it. (Note: I had also casually mentioned to my
husband that I needed a new pair of black boots about a week before my newly
introduced foot pain earned me that afore mentioned air cast. Lesson?
Be careful what you ask for.)
Unmet expectations.
That’s what they are. I plan and
expect that things will go as I planned.
I use sticky notes and charts and chalkboards (Oh, how I love
chalkboards!) and then play out scenarios in my mind. I envision that something will look a certain
way and when it doesn’t, I must have somehow failed. I expected a predicted outcome and it
changed. But let’s be honest. How many things really go as originally planned?
God is good all the time.
Yes! No doubt.
All the time, God is good.
Absolutely.
But do I live like I believe it in those times when things
don’t go as I planned? Do I get
frustrated and grumpy and grouchy when my schedule is interrupted or
changed? Do I lash out when my
expectations are not met?
Because the truth is that I grumbled that day I left the
foot and ankle specialist’s office (three weeks of a new schedule?!) and now I
found myself sulking over Thanksgiving (we had worked so hard to "eat" our kitchen bare, and seriously, we were already packed to go).
Sounds a lot like an account I’ve read before in
Exodus. Those Israelites who grumbled
when God had them wandering in the desert for decades. Sure, I was not wanting for manna or water,
but when looking at hearts, was mine not as sinful in my discontentment? My unmet expectations were trivial when
compared. I was now going to have to
shoulder the Thanksgiving preparations and come up with a new impromptu
plan. I would be slow (because this boot
thingy now makes me half the speed I once was), but even so, a quick trip to my
local supermarket was completely possible (I had to stop by the pharmacy now
for that Tamiflu anyway). I mean, how
selfish could one be?! I had food, an
overabundant amount of blessings to give thanks for, and now that uninterrupted
family time we had been craving. This
could be good, no?
And while I never would wish the flu upon anyone (and
especially my own little family), like Nana so sweetly reminded me…there was
even blessing in the timing of it all.
How thankful we were that flu symptoms appeared hours before we took to
the road (with countless other holiday-bound vehicles). How miserable would we have been stuck in an
ER in a foreign town away from all the comforts of our own home? Plus, it was nice to know that should anyone
else succumb to the aches and fever, a mere phone call and another quick trip
to the pharmacy might be more possible (albeit, at my half speed).
Our Thanksgiving, though quiet, was still beyond what we
deserved. We had a humble gathering of
foods on the table and three nights in a row of family movie night. We had blankets and hot cocoa and a family round
of Yahtzee. True, we had coughs and
disinfectant and around the clock medication schedules, but we also had
memories and snuggles and too much TV. I
kicked my feet up on my own couch (in between laundry piles, of course) and
knitted and watched football. For three
days in a row. And it was good. (And being caught up on laundry was certainly
nice come Monday.)
So when things don’t go as I had planned, I can grumble and
get frustrated, losing sight of what matters and maybe even feel sorry for
myself. Or, I can choose to see those
unmet expectations as opportunities to Praise God and thank Him for having me
right where I need to be.
Right where I need to
be.
For
I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and
a future. (Jeremiah 29:11)
Father,
Please forgive me for my sulking and my
childish tendencies. Your ways are
higher than my own (Isaiah 55:8-9). And even
if I don’t always understand, I know that Your plans are perfect. I trust that no matter what my agenda may be,
Yours will always be what’s best for me…because through Your plans, You are fulfilling
Your will for my life. Though I will
continue to make plans daily, help me to surrender to the changes You see
fit. Like barnacles being scrubbed off
of an old, tired, ship, You scrape off my crusty edges and mold me every day
into more of an image of Christ. Thank
you. Thank you for Jesus, who chose to
die in my place. Thank you for saving me
and loving me so much. Jesus is
everything to me. Your will be done, LORD,
not my own (Luke 22:42). Thank you for
loving me so much that you choose not to put me always where I want to be, but
instead You put me where I need to be.
Your love is like no other. Thank
you, Jesus, that You return no void. And
thank you, for the overabundance of blessings that I don’t deserve…the greatest
being a life forever with You.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment