When I Cannot See The Way

I'm alive.

I didn't get sucked into the vortex that was my pantry/laundry room project. But the deed is done, and I am glad.

The blog has been silent this week as I have slashed and dashed a very big "to do" list.

But the biggest thing that needed to be done has been accomplished - the one thing on the list that has plagued me for ten years: I applied for a replacement Social Security card.

My original one was stolen 10 years ago, three days before I gave birth to The Girl. Someone took it from my Target shopping cart. The purse was never found.

So I sat in the crowded SS office with a young women to my left who had just gotten married. Behind me sat a women who held her 3 month old son, who made the sweetest little sounds.

To my right was an African American grandmother, whose blindness and braided silver hair told me she had lived many years. She would giggle when she heard those sweet baby sounds coming from the seat behind us...and she would lean into me and say in a wise and tender voice, "Sweet sounds...reminds me of my baby who is sleeping."

Brings tears to my eyes...

There I sat, in that crowded place of humanity that was both bitter and sweet. A reminder of the days that have been, and of the days that come.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about Gods providence, how God continually, unceasingly takes cares of us. I've been thinking about how hard it is to understand.

This morning I read 1 Thess 5:7:

Be joyful always;

Pray continually;

Give thanks to God in all circumstances,

for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.

Ten years ago, I couldn't understand why, three days before a planned c-section, my purse had to be stolen. 

In that bag was (among other important things) my military ID and my medical cards. I'm serious when I say, the hospital would not have allowed that baby to be delivered without those two cards. So I spent three frantic days pulling strings to get them replaced...and I've spent the last 10 years dreading that visit to the Social Security office.

And yet....

Had that bag not been stolen, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to sit next to those three beautiful women. Sharing in their joys. Sharing in their sorrows.

It was only an hour and seventeen minutes of my life. How sad I would have been to have missed it.

Today, with the vision of 20/20 hindsight, I can look up and gratefully say thank you. 

May this be a lesson to choose joy and gratitude when I cannot see the way.