When I was in college...I had it all figured out. Graduate college, go directly on to a Masters program, have a Masters degree in education, start teaching, and continue to on to my PhD. I would be done with the Masters by 25 (at the latest), then get married, and start having kids. I was a Christian, I was told I could do whatever I wanted to when I was little (an injustice we continue to say to our children...more on that in another post), and I had a supportive family and friends...no abuse, no hardships to speak of. I mean, my dad worked his hiney off so we could go to private school, so he was absent sometimes, but...overall, my life was good, I had lots of advantages, I loved school, and I was quite intelligent.
So how did I end up here? An almost forty-year-old mom to one child, living out in the middle of nowhere, married to an incredible man, homeschooling of all things, got the Bachelors, but no Masters, certainly no PhD. I have health issues that I could have never anticipated, and other than being married to said incredible man, there really isn’t anything about my life that I planned on that worked out. At least on paper.
And honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about that. I mean, I know that MY plans started veering off course when I started working for Towne Air Freight…but I became very successful in that industry and I really loved it. But I knew it wasn’t my destiny. I did know my destiny would take me where I am today, yet here I am.
Jeremiah 29:11 tells us that God has plans for us. Plans to give us hope and a future. So I cling to that. I’ve posted about hope before; if I didn’t have hope, I can honestly tell you I wouldn’t be here. If this life was all there is, I would have totally checked out. I can promise you that.
But because I KNOW that this life is but a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things; that my time on earth is so short, and that compared to eternity this is NOTHING. Because I KNOW that my Redeemer LIVES, and that I will be whole and perfect in heaven someday.
I will be strong again. No matter how old my baby boy is I will pick him up and throw him in the air, something I’ve really never been able to do.
I will get down on the floor with him and let him jump all over me, because in heaven, there is no more pain.
I will laugh and laugh and laugh, just like I used to, with tears rolling down my cheeks, you know, those kinds of tears that only hearty laughter can employ, without running out of air.
I will swim underwater and sleep on my stomach and take showers with my head tilted way back and not worry about drowning or suffocating.
I will see my Jesus, face to face, and KNOW that every second of every moment of pain and suffering that I may have gone through will evaporate when I look into his eyes, and He says, “Welcome Home. You have fought the fight. You have run the race. You didn’t quit. Well done.”
Oh, and I’ll be skinny too! That doesn't stink at all! : )