I remembered something today. We made the decision to leave early on Wednesday morning. All we had to do was finish packing some clothes and move in a few plants, right? Packing the clothes didn't really take all that long; we've been to camp plenty of times. And actually loading the cars wasn't that bad, either. We took the back seats out of the minivans (For the last time, I suppose!), and piled in the photo albums and baseball cards and videos of basketball games. It was the "move in a few plants" that stretched into a few hours.
Furniture down from the deck. Plants into the house and garage and up next to the house. Moving things away from the window so they would be safe from falling pecan trees. Unplugging all those vital electrical appliances. Stopping to check in with the neighbors. By the time we finally pulled out, it was almost 8:00 ... P.M.!
But we were determined to beat the traffic that we just knew would begin in earnest at first light. So nothing would hold us back. We were on the road!
The girls all piled into the Explorer - Chris and MeeMaw and Heidi, the dachshund. That left me and Fritz in the mini-van, and he was ready to go - anywhere! The girls took the lead, and my cell phone rang. "Heidi is driving us nuts. She's crawling all over the clothes and won't sit down!" I really didn't care what Heidi was doing at that moment, because I could barely see the taillights in front of me. See, after my cataract surgery, I can see fine during the day, but not so well at night. I had my glasses, and I was trying to find the, which was comical in itself. I had a flashlight turned on, and I was digging into my backpack and coming up empty -handed when the phone rang. I was getting kind of anxious, myself.
About that time, the Explorer carrying the three women in my life exited the freeway. What could she need thirty minutes from home? We're in League City, for crying out loud! I anticipated a quick stop at a convenience store to put Heidi in with me, but NO! Chris made a U-turn and headed back toward Galveston - toward traffic - toward Ike. I picked up my phone and waited for our distinctive ring, Take Me Out to the Ball Game. And I didn't have to wait long. There it was. I punched in quickly with, "Where are we going?"
The story was this: Our son Nathan - the fire fighter who was going to ride out the storm on the island, much to the chagrin of his mother and the pride of his father - called and asked Chris, "Mom, how do you plan to get back onto the island after the storm? Her answer? "Well, that's easy - show my driver's license." He responded, "You mean the one that's in your purse which is sitting here at home in the chair?"
Now, I don't remember laughing at that point, but Chris has more than once had issues with my memory. Nathan was going to meet us in LaMarque, but I made one of those executive, husband-type decisions: "Let's just go home and get some sleep."
Apparently our timing for departure was off by about eight hours or so. Timing. That's one of those God-things that rarely matches up with my sense of "ought-to." Timing. Jeremiah 29:11-13 says: "For I know the plans I have for you," declare the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me with all your heart."
So. He's the Great Planner. I guess that means he has the right to decide the timing, too.
OK, Great Planner. Take over the timing thing. Our big issue right now is that we don't know how long it'll be before we get to return home. And some of us don't know if we even have a home. Take over the timing. Give us [patience to survive the wait. Give us peace to survive the unknown. Give us grace to survive the known. Give us love to survive - no, not survive - to live and serve, and rebuild, and be victorious in your name! Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment