An Odd Year

I don't know why I'm surprised.

Every December 31 I look back at the previous year and think, "wow, it was really a good year...but man, I did not think it would have happened this way".  And I haven't even had anything really strange happen to me, like winning the lottery or becoming a Joe the Plumber or something.

But last year at this time I was sitting around, playing a game with my brother- and sister-in-law (that's two inlaws--how do you properly hyphenate that?), feeling that I'd be in one place for at least another three to five years.  This year I sit in the living room that has been stripped down so as to make my for-sale house look bigger, thanking the Lord for making it so bitterly cold outside that only the very stupid are venturing out to blow fireworks.  (Because fireworks wake the kids.)  And thinking about our new town in Texas, where the high today was supposed to be 70 degrees.  (The high here was 6.)

I also was not expecting Littleman, last year.

So really, moving across the country and having a baby, all at the same time--odd, not how I would have planned it, but happily there is a sovereign, loving God who knows more about these things than I do, and He knew that this was the best way for it to happen.  If I'd have been setting things up, I would have arranged them in a way that makes sense to my puny human brain, and I'd very likely have caused the moon to go hurtling into the sun, metaphorically speaking.  So, flippant as it seems like I'm being, I really am grateful to the Lord for not giving me that kind of power.

While it is one of the doctrines that is hardest for humans to grasp--mostly, I think, because we really want to be sovereign ourselves--it's so comforting to keep reminding myself that God is in charge.  (Therefore, it doesn't really matter if the kids decide to be fire engines and run in circles, whooping and holding spraying sippy cups of milk, while the grownups are trying to shampoo the carpet with the Loudest Carpet Steamer On Earth.  Really.)  He already knows who is going to buy our house and why and which house we're going to have in our new town.  He already knows exactly when Littleman will finally decide to fly the coop.  (I shouldn't be saying "finally" yet--we're only at 36 weeks on Sunday--but it sure feels like "finally".)  He already knows, for that matter, exactly which day I'm going to die on.  Sort of removes the urgency about everything, doesn't it?

Of course there is still so much to do as I face the new year.  (Or rather, so much to boss the Husband about doing, since I am not allowed to do anything.)  Relying on God's sovereignty doesn't mean that I sit around, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the work to miraculously do itself--even the disciples still had to haul their nets full of miraculous fish into the boat.  But it means that if something comes up to make it so I can't do the work (fire engines?) then I accept that from His hand, instead of gnashing my teeth in frustration.

I admit I tend to gnash.  Quite a lot.

New year's resolutions are pretty silly, but after collecting enough odd years, I think I can venture to make this one: this year, I will try to see Him working in things like knocked-over piles of laundry, muddy dog feet, and milk-spewing fire engine children, as well as in safe travels, healing, and sound sleeps.  Maybe I will gnash less.

Cheers,

Breanna