If I could just see where I'm going

Sunday morning God had a nice little lesson for me to learn at church. Surprisingly, it didn't come through the sermon, the music, the Bible study class before worship, or even through the word of anyone trying to encourage me. It was just before the sermon, when our pastors offer "a time with the children and yayas." YAYAS are "youth and young adults." I still think of myself as a young adult, but I refrain from thumping down the aisle and plopping down on the carpeted stage area amongst the kiddos in our little congregation. But since our church kids are mostly pre-teen and teen age, Mitchell and Samuel are often the youngest kids up front during this time. Dr. George asked for a volunteer, and naturally the uninhibited Mitchell was the first to raise his hand. The other "yayas" just rolled their eyes and pretended to be bored out of their minds. Dr. George blindfolded Mitchell and asked him to follow his directions (his voice) as they walked down the center aisle together. Mitchell leaned in closely and listened for Dr. George to lead him down the aisle. At the back of our little sanctuary, Mitchell was allowed to remove his blindfold. Sensing his "turn" was over, Mitchell galloped back to his spot on the floor by the pulpit, while Dr. George gave another child a turn with the activity. After finishing with the second volunteer, George asked the kids to share about what it was like to blindly follow his voice down the center aisle. In his nonsensical way, Mitchell blurted out what would be the most important statement of the morning church service for me:
"It seemed like it took forever to get back there because I couldn't see where I was going!"
Bam! Right between the eyes, that was for me. I'm having such a hard time with this part of my journey. This waiting . . . this constant wondering . . . this aching, longing, desperately painful, seemingly stretched-out, ridiculous wait for children to call my own. Looking at profiles, asking questions, waiting for a returned phone call or email, waking up at night wondering who is caring for my children right now and how much longer will it be until they are with me and our family. It just seems like it's taking forever.
I hear and recognize the voice of God calling me forward on this journey. Sometimes I just want to rip off the blindfold and shout: "Where are you taking me? And why is it taking so long??????!!!!!!"


Today I picked up a rental car because earlier this week, someone accidentally hit me in front of the high school. Samuel was with me during the accident. He was quick to point out that because Georgia's plans had changed at the very last minute, we were there in front of the high school at a different time than originally planned. She had to stay after school for a last-minute makeup test in French class, and a meeting for the cross-country team. This required a slight deviation in our plans, and ended up with our sitting in front of the high school for over an hour and a half (thirty minutes stuck in the car because the other driver had pinned me in on the driver's side and the other side was in the oncoming lane.) While we waited for the police and wrecker, Samuel and Georgia talked about how hot it was outside, how thirsty and hungry they were, and how long it was taking the police to arrive. It's hard to believe this was all somehow part of God's plan for our day. But I realized as I was driving along today, that God never has a "plan B." His plans are perfect. That's what the Bible says anyway. See-
 ^{II Samuel 22:31} “As for God, his way is perfect:
                       The LORD’s word is flawless;
                        he shields all who take refuge in him." 

I will be honest with you. I've always got a "plan B." That's because my ways are NOT perfect. My plan "A" life was not working out the way I wanted it to go. So I tried to move to my Plan "B" and I soon discovered that plan was also imperfect because it was mine.
But now I sit here thinking that all along, God's plan for my life was and is perfect. I should have submitted myself to His will all along, rather than fighting him with my own will and desires for my life. As hard as it is to accept, this waiting, this seemingly obnoxious period of being "matched" with a group of kids who need parents, is, just like my sudden change of colleges, my bad first marriage, my divorce, my infertility, my struggles with step-motherhood . . .  all part of His perfect plan for my life.
                     ^{Isaiah 55:9} “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
                                  so are my ways higher than your ways
                                      and my thoughts than your thoughts. 

 I'm going to try to remember this.