There is a verse that keeps running through my mind. Part of one. Maybe it’s a proverb from Benjamin Franklin. I can’t remember and I’m too lazy to Google it.
Man makes his plans but God ordains his steps.
Or something like that.
We’ve had this weekend planned for weeks. Portland. OMSI. Plasticized body parts and schwanky coffee shops. Malls with escalators and thrift stores. A movie or two. Finish a book. Start another. Laugh. Get lost. Wander. Laugh some more.
Then the coughing started. And the body aches. The sleepyhead at 9pm (my husband) confirmed it.
Mini-vacation is cancelled.
That is the routine of my life it seems. I have plenty of work plans that don’t fall through. Plenty of school events that are pulled off without a hitch.
But trips out of town to simply be elsewhere, change scenery and relax? Cancelled reservations.
Something seems to always get in the way.
Stay-cation? Here we come. Instead of schwanky coffee shops? My Keurig will keep me in Dark Sumatra. Instead of OMSI we will settle for “The Adventures of Tintin” at our local McMenamins.
I’ll farm the boys out for a night and the Mr. and I will have a nice dinner out and remember the day we met, 18 years ago. I’m not complaining. It sounds delightful.
Oh, there will be another time. Another trip. There always is.
I see the need to stop, be quiet. Let the mayhem subside. I need to pray. I need to re-focus.
I’m tired of a circus I’ve been in and I’m not certain where to go from here. The weekend would have been a distraction.
It seems I don’t need a distraction. I need an answer. A direction. A canary in a coal mine.
God’s building my resume. The weight of it is often staggering.
On the bright side…
I have really good coffee.