Our plan is not what I thought it would be. Just last fall, we discussed how we would remodel our home for empty-nesting. We’ve raised our family beneath a Midwest sky and launched three kids into the great wide world—though, not too far away, and always with the promise of home as we’ve grown it.
My fourth child, firmly planted in this plot, knowing herself and trusting what she knows about those around her, never expected her tether to be loosened, never saw it coming that home isn’t permanent and plans could change.
Neither had I.
Over the last few months, we’ve begun to eye the edge of that Midwest sky and look beyond it, and wrestle with the very fact that home will shift a thousand miles away. And while this is not the end of the world, our peace has been shaken, our grief has set in, and we struggle with the end of something good.
I tell my daughter, there are good things ahead—good places, good opportunities, good people.
But she is smart. She knows the truth of the world—rose-colored glasses are tucked away in childhood boxes. And she knows there are no guarantees.
Tears and fears have dissolved our hopes of roots beneath a Midwest sky.
Like her mama’s own tendency, she confessed that the bad always seems more likely than the good.
At one point, I found myself scrambling, wondering how I could protect her from the big bad world. But if there is one thing I have learned over all these years of mothering it’s that I can’t stop my kids from encountering the world. But I can equip my children to be strong. I can sidle up next to them in the midst of the encounters and love them through it. And I can eke out whatever faith I have, and try and pass it along.
This quote came up the morning after we faced the grief head on:
“I have had more than one instance in my life where my best made plans were changed. And yet, if I took the time to see it from a larger vantage point and perspective, the change in plans can actually become a blessing…God has a plan. And He has a plan for every single one of us if we trust in Him. And He will work every sorrow, every pain, every torment, and every suffering, for His glory. He revisits our past. Not only does He revisit our past, He heals our past.” -Jackie Morfesis
I’ll be honest, Faith seems little at times, but I know it’s still there—a seedling—and what my faith has changed in me, is not to disregard sorrow or suffering, but to allow it and to let it work in us to grieve well, knowing He is laying a path regardless of the plan. We won’t be lost to Him. He’ll be there. Even if those we love are nowhere to be found…at “the end of the world”.
We’ll have each other, and we’ll have Him, forever steady, no matter how our plans change.
angie dicken 