The Way Things Work

I went a very long time hearing the phrase “God has a plan.” I never really put much thought into it…I mean, OF COURSE God has a plan. If you are a believer, you certainly think God has a plan. But for the most part, it was always just that: a phrase. It never really STUCK for me. But I have to say, over the last couple years, God’s plan has never been more clear for us. Okay, maybe His plan isn’t clear…but in retrospect, I see that His plan is so much better than ours…even though at the time, I think “What are you thinking dude?”

I’m writing this on a night when I had a really nice surprise: a girl that we interviewed to be Jack’s nanny commented on the blog. Apparently she stumbled upon the blog (hi Jennie!) via my gmail tagline when we were emailing back and forth about nannying details. I’ll admit that I was so sad year ago when she e-mailed me to tell me that she had accepted a position with another family. After interviewing 3 other people and looking at a ton of applications (mostly ones with girls sporting a ridiculous amount of cleavage), I REALLY liked her. And I felt like she would really take care of our boy. When she turned down the job, I was bummed…I remember praying and thinking, “What are you doing, God? She was the one to watch our boy.” And while I am sure that Jennie would have been a fantastic nanny, God had a plan. The very next day, John told me that we had another applicant for the job…a retired pediatric nurse who had dedicated her career to children with gastrointestinal disorders. Jack’s GERD and food allergies? Old hat for her. Oh, and she’d raised four kids. Oh, and she was just looking for something to help her ease into retirement—she didn’t really need money and was more than willing to take our measly salary offer. Oh, and she spoke Spanish and was willing to help raise Jack to be bilingual. Oh, and she loves Jesus above everything. Sometimes I think about not having Laura in our lives and it seriously brings tears to my eyes. Not like, “I could cry” but like I actually DO cry. Thinking of how close we came to possibly having someone other than Laura breaks my heart. This woman is family. She is Jack’s abuela. She is my RaRa. She prays over our family on a daily—no, hourly basis. Thinking about not having Laura in our lives is like imagining life without a family member…and I look back at the sadness I felt when Jennie turned down the position and I think, “Oh God, you are SO good.”

And, of course, you all know that while we wanted Jack something fierce, we didn’t expect his arrival so early. As in, we didn’t really plan to have kids until I was 28 or so. FYI: I got pregnant at 25. About 4 years ahead of schedule. And as I sat there holding that pee stick, I thought "Wait! God! I had plans!!! Why didn’t you let me live by my plans??” And now I look at that little boy and know that if he had come even 2 days later than he did, he would have been a completely different kid. He wouldn’t have been my Jackaroni, my fussfest, my smiley boy. And even on the nights where I wish John and I could just go out to dinner on a whim, just the two of us, I think about waiting those 3 or 4 extra years for this kid to come into my life and it just makes my stomach ache. HOW could I have gone even one more day without being this sweet boy’s mom?

I didn’t want to go to Creighton for undergrad. I didn’t know where I wanted to go but I knew I didn’t want to go to Creighton. But for some reason, at the very last minute (read: May 1, the final day to let the school know whether or not you planned to attend that school) I decided to revoke my acceptance at my “reach school” and go to Creighton instead. I just had an uneasy feeling about going to the other school and I felt like at least Creighton was in a city where my sisters and other family lived. Those first few months were TERRIBLE. I hated Creighton. I hated being 1000 miles away from my parents, baby sister, and my best friend. I just kept thinking, “I’m only 17! I’ll just move back to Texas and go to school in the fall with Leslee. I just don’t want to be here.” And then, as I walked out of the library one day, I ran into my middle school friend’s big brother who I knew from when I still lived in Nebraska. He told me to come join the speech team since I was on it with him and his sister before I moved to Texas in 9th grade. I did it because…well…it beat bawling all alone in my dorm room every night. And at that first meeting of some of the geekiest kids on campus, I met him: that gangly, geeky boy who would become my husband. I look back on those nights of crying in my dorm room thinking, “God, why did you let me come here?” and I see that sweet guy staring at me from across the room saying silly things like, “You are beautiful” out of nowhere. And I know that I am so loved. And THAT is why God brought me there.

There are countless situations where God amazes me…through my sadness and sorrow, He brings indescribable joy. His plan is perfect and He does not make mistakes. I know that there will be times when I cry and wonder why God has brought me to certain places. Heck, I know that there will be times in the immediate future when I wonder why God has allowed me to lose my vision and, to a certain extent, my freedom that accompanies being a fully sighted person. When I get that way, please remind me of this post. Please remind me that God has not let me down yet and He is not about to start. Oh, how He loves me. Oh, how He loves us all.