This past weekend we had three Christmas parties to attend! THREE! One each night of the weekend. While it was a bit overwhelming, especially since Lucas had to work this weekend, I was also really excited at the chance to get away from the house and celebrate the season with friends. Cue Friday night's work party where the snow gave me the slight question of whether we should drive all the way in to the city to pick up our children's amazing aunt who would be watching them for us. Lucas made it there and back without any difficulty and the night was a fun break from the normal. We did lose power for a few hours overnight, but all in all things went surprisingly well.
Then came Saturday. About halfway through the day I got a text from Lucas which included a picture of his near swollen shut eye with a note saying he would be headed to an urgent care as soon as he was off because he was pretty certain he had pink eye. Without getting into ALL the crazy details, we missed our party. One that we had all been so excited to attend. Instead we wandered through Sam's Club, had Chic-fil-a drive thru, watched a short Christmas movie, and went off to bed trying not to admit just how upset we were. The next morning we began to watch Caleb for pink eye thinking he would certainly get it. That night we were to have another Christmas party with some wonderful friends and, again, we were all so excited (including the kids) until the possibility was raised that maybe we shouldn't go for fear of passing along pink eye. I literally held back tears as we discussed the possibility. I know it might seem silly, but after the crazy month we had experienced and the excitement over the party (not to mention all the cookies we had baked!) I just couldn't handle the thought of missing something else. I'm pretty sure my words and attitude were simple, "I give up."
As I drove Ruth and I to church so the boys could stay home and not potentially share any germs, I felt so incredibly defeated. My opportunity for a fun-filled weekend was once again disappearing and I just wanted a break from it all. During the last worship song that morning, my attitude was changed. Not completely, not entirely, but my perspective was shifted as we sang these words:
By Your Spirit I will rise,
From the Ashes of Defeat.
The resurrected King is resurrecting me!
Your Name, Your Name is VICTORY!
It felt as though God was speaking directly to me in that moment. I had a choice to make. I could remain upset and disappointed, looking at our weekend and this day as a wasted opportunity for fun or I could find a way to make the best of what we had left of the day. So I formulated a plan as I drove home to mix up a batch of gingerbread dough (despite the 6 batches of cookies already strewn about the kitchen) and we would put together a gingerbread house as a family that night instead of getting to go to the party. I was still disappointed, but my new plan gave me something to look forward to and something different to get excited about. Turns out we were able to attend the party and our gingerbread house waited until the following night to be constructed!
Very often I have a strict plan or schedule in my mind and I can get pretty excited about the things in store for us, but when plans fall apart I discover that I'm not as flexible as I'd like to think. I freeze. I keep thinking about what I'm missing instead of what God could be doing.
Lord, help me to trust You when my plans fall through. Cause me to look to You for the new plan. To not get frustrated and disappointed, but to get excited about what You have in store for us. Amen