Failed Plans

In the years before I was a mother, the expression, "failing to plan is planning to fail," must have been deeply etched into my psyche. There is no other explanation for why, eight and a half years into motherhood, I still make plans.

Plans don't really work for moms. When I was pregnant, my hubby and I made a "birth plan." This is a false way of making a woman feel in control of a situation where she has no power whatsoever. Not a single thing in our birth plan went the way we thought it should.

Fast forward eight years, and I "planned" to spend the first part of today at a farm on a field trip with my youngest daughter, then I would hurry home to pack and get ready for my trip to Nashville for the MOPS Annual Convention. I am leaving tomorrow. However, since I am writing this, you can guess that I am not at the farm. The trip was thankfully postponed because it is snowing outside. Had it not been postponed,however, I wouldn't be there anyway because on the way to school my daughter threw up all over herself, the back of the car, her booster seat, and her backpack. So, instead of washing the clothes I need to pack later today, I have a "special" load going.

As moms, the only thing we can really count on is that life is unexpected. When we face it with a sense of flexibility and a willingness to tackle change head-on, we can manage life pretty well. When we get too rigid in our expectations, we end up always feeling like we've been puked on.

Thankfully, God is with us whether things go the way we think they should or not. He directs us through the obstacle course of change, and equips us with what we need for each moment. I am thankful that He made it cold and snowy on the day I had to clean up the back of my car. Had it been hot and sunny like it was yesterday, the smell probably would have made me sick along with my daughter. And that is something I definitely didn't plan for.


I won't be posting again until next week since I am "planning" to be in Nashville. Have a blessed week!

Untwisting

Jesus said to him, "I will go and heal him." - Matthew 8:7

I love people watching. Recently, I enjoyed lunch on an outside patio near a street fair. From my seat, I observed people visiting a chiropractor’s booth. He had them stand on raised footpads in front of a grid showing how the hips, spine and shoulders should be aligned.

Most people were crooked, so the doctor twisted their hips and adjusted their shoulders until they matched the grid.

How often I feel misaligned. Issues with my kids push my mothering hip out to the left, reminiscent of the days when it held a wriggling baby at my side. The weight of financial burdens force one shoulder down, while the other one tips forward in frustration toward my husband after a squabble. The demands of daily life twist and turn me until I am all out of whack.

Amazingly however, in one brief moment, I can begin to straighten out, and it has nothing to do with a chiropractor. As soon as I close my eyes in prayer, I feel myself relax. I murmur, “Father God,” and my spine stretches upright, closer to His presence. With, “I need your help,” my shoulders ease as I relieve myself of my burdens and my hips pull back into place as I trust Him to handle the details and trials of life.

Need an alignment (either physical or mental)? Take it to the master healer.