Sometimes God Has Other Plans

I wake to gloomy skies. The fog is thick.

I start my day. The youngest calls from his bed, and I call the oldest out of his.

Breakfast and chores are waiting.

A little hand reaches up and suddenly a bowl crashes to the floor. Sweet, sticky milk and corn flakes go flying. (Yes, we add sugar!) I hold my breath, trying not to yell at the two who are just standing by watching, and I grab a towel to begin scooping up the mess.

My husband scoops up the culprit and carries him off. When he returns, I see a huge wet spot from carrying the sticky, little guilty one. It's on the shirt he has just ironed. When I point it out, he echoes my frustration as he leaves to find another shirt.

I put on my coat, pick up someone's forgotten planner and fly out the door so the boys won't be late. As I walk through the breezeway to the garage, I have a brief recollection of an open backpack hanging on the back of a chair. I yell, "Does everyone have their backpack?" Of course, no one does! The pressure is mounting.

They climb in the van, arguing about who is supposed to close the doors. I lose my cool, if I ever had any, and I give the talk for the thousandth time, "The last one out closes the doors, and don't talk to your brother like that." Maybe it will stick this time. I'm not hopeful!

The morning has not gone as I had hoped. And now, my children will start school with mommy's tirade as the last thing they remember of home and family.

As we're driving, I want to change the memory of their morning, so I ask if anyone has seen signs of spring. Someone yells, "I saw birds," and another "I saw some grass." We talk about how exciting it will be to watch that grass become green. We talk about how the rivers flow faster in the spring. I remark that I haven't seen any ants, yet. (I mention this because my boys love ants more than just about anything.) They are off planning what they are going to do when the ants finally make an appearance.

They climb out of the car, we say the "I love you's" and the "Have a good day's," and I drive off feeling like maybe I've salvaged a tiny moment from the morning I had planned.

This morning did not go the way I think mornings should go. It's not the first time.

I'm familiar with things not going according to my plans -

- moving north when the only way I wanted to go was south

- eleven years of waiting to hold that first child

- two babies instead of one-at-a-time

- a broken leg instead of the Virgin Islands

- a pregnancy 20 years into marriage

If there is one thing I have learned in living through all those change of plans, it is this, and I unwrap it again today:

Sometimes God has other plans!

In most of the big "change of plan" moments, I can look back and see His wisdom. If I can trust His plans for my life, then surely I can trust His plan for this day. I'm not sure why spilled milk and forgotten backpacks are part of today's plan, (Perhaps to teach patience?) but I know there is one thing I can trust, one thing I can know for sure. His plan is always better than mine, and it's always for my good!

Many are the plans in a human heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails. Proverbs 19:21

In the midst of today's best laid plans, I'm unwrapping the gift of God's perfect plan at Chatting at the Sky.