"Mama, my arm hurts."
He's right next to my bed and my first thought is - how did he get out? His little arm in a cast, flipping out of his crib must have been quite a feat. Still, he's here and he needs me.
I crawl out as best I can with this big belly and loose ligaments, past the still slumbering 2 year old who's face is buried in curls. I lift him in my arms - when did he get so big? - and carry him out into the hall.
"Do you think some medicine would help? Should we get some?" He nods and together we make our way through the gloom of early morning, creaking down hundred year old stairs into the start of the day.
I get him settled and medicated there on the couch and start my coffee.
Yesterday didn't go according to plan. If I'm honest with myself, most of my days don't. Who would plan on a three year old breaking their arm right in the middle of a fun play date outside the day after Easter? Who would plan any of the interruptions and switching gears that most of my days demand? It's still a practice for me, this acceptance of what is and gentle letting go of what is planned. What I had planned. It's still a struggle to gracefully take up the new plan with little complaint or frustration.
Still, I can see that the wise way to live these unpredictable days is with an open heart and mind. With a gentle view and a light grasp. I believe that openness softens and leads to acceptance, and in that place joy can take root.
I'm rusty at it, right now. Late pregnancy has my need for security in the forefront of my priorities, and security through a good, workable plan is a tempting prospect. But placing my mental and emotional security on a fallible human plan is foolish at best. I need something more. I need something rock solid. The good part is, I know where to find it.
He leans his forehead on my belly while we snuggle on the couch and I crack open my "Seven Sacred Pauses" and find a meditation for the day. Thoughts of God's infallibility ground me. Truths about His sovereignty pin my feet to the path of the day with the assurance that I crave.
The one plan I can always depend on to be there, firm and true and faultless - is His. His goodness is unshakable. His love endlessly enduring. Through broken bones and hearts. Through shattered windows and dreams. Through sleepless nights and dark days.
With a light grasp on my plans and a firm hold on His, I am equipped for whatever comes next.
In the morning, I start my day. Assured.
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