A Lesson

I have a theory that viruses and vehicles know -- they just know -- when our husbands deploy. Cars stop working or start overheating or simply won't start. Kids get sick. Even better, you get sick. Whenever Jim leaves, things inevitably start getting weird. And this phenomenon is not, I've learned, limited to a deployment. Jim's current trip to the mainland has been no exception.

Just after Jim left, the girls came down with some sort of bug. What sort of bug? Well, I'm not sure about all the details, but suffice it to say that it was a stomach bug. (It is another astonishing fact of parenthood that, even though I was the one doing laundry, mopping floors, and being thrown up on, the only person I felt badly for was Kathleen, poor baby.) Neither Madeline nor I caught it with quite the same vengeance as Kathleen, but we were off for a few days, too. By the end of the week we were all recovered, and we even made it out for lunch with a friend and to buy fabric for my next sewing project.

But then, just as we were hitting our stride -- seeing the outside world, accomplishing our errands -- we were waylaid again. On Saturday morning we were nearly on our way to the post office (to mail a stack of baby gifts -- babies Frost, Whitman, Huie, Krattiger and Jarvis, I have NOT forgotten you!) when I realized that I couldn't find my wallet. A frantic search of the car and house and diaper bag turned up nothing. A visit to the commissary (the last place it was used) and the MPs was equally unsuccessful.

So, while it's not exactly car trouble, my car can't be used! I've no military ID, no driver's license, and no credit card. I've been working on replacing those surprisingly essential pieces of plastic, but even that's a challenge. As all you Army wives know, in order to replace an ID (in the absence of a husband), you need a power of attorney. "No problem!" I chirped, as Jim's first sergeant rattled off the things I'd need, "Of course I have a power of attorney." And I do. But it expired months ago! Who thinks about replacing a power of attorney when the guys get home?! (Another thing that's expired? My passport. Seriously, I couldn't prove my identity if my life depended on it!) I'll not be getting that new ID until Jim returns, which thankfully is in just a few days.

Anyway, the upside to our complications is that they have made our life surprisingly simple. We can't go anywhere. We can't buy anything. And that's just fine. We've got everything we need -- and then some. We've got a full pantry and refrigerator. We have exactly the right number of nighttime pull-ups to last until Jim comes home. (The day after he gets home, actually. Even better.) Without my lengthy (self-imposed) to-do list, our days are calmer and happier. We've been using watercolors. We've been playing with playdough. We've been doing lots and lots of make-believe. (More on that later.) We've been to the park at least twice a day. We had a marvelous Sunday picnic of peanut butter and jelly, right in our backyard. And I've made quite a bit of progress on my newest sewing project, my first quilt.

When I realized my wallet was missing on Saturday morning, I was really annoyed. "What a colossal headache! Another thing to make my life more challenging," I thought. I had to change my plans, and that annoyed me more than anything. And then I read my friend Paula's recent post, in which she quoted this scripture:

If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.
Matthew 6:30-33 (The Message)

These verses helped me see more clearly what I'd been experiencing over the weekend. I'd been fussing over the lost wallet, focused on the plans I'd had to abandon. I hadn't given a thought to "God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions." In reality, my inconvenience hadn't made me miss out -- it had given me more. When I was tempted to believe that God wasn't caring for me, He was actually giving me what I hadn't known enough to ask for. How like Him.

So for now, I'm just learning to relax, to be happy with what we've got and where we are. And it's a pleasant lesson. But we'll still be happy to see Jim when he returns Wednesday night (and to eventually replace that ID)!