There are the plans we make; and then there are God’s plans. Sometimes, they line up. Take for instance last week. I thought I had it all figured out. Easy trip to the airport with one small caveat, the necessary requirement of bringing the old family dog into the friendly skies. Never having done this before, I believed I had taken care of all the necessary requirements based on information I was given. Standing there at the critical moment I was informed otherwise, and it all fell apart from there. As a result I missed both my intended flight and the following one. After spending some time seeking alternate solutions, I was left with what felt like the only recourse; crying in exasperated frustration in the parked car while the elusive solution evaded me. I prayed. I cried. I said some things I wished I hadn’t.
I haven’t been that flustered and infuriated all at once in a long, long time.
After an expenditure of way too much energy and finally finding a temporary solution, I began to put things into perspective. A good friend of mine was currently having her chest breeched for repair surgery and would spend Christmas break, in painful recovery. Longtime dear friends of ours had shared in their Christmas letter the day prior, that each of them has cancer and are undergoing chemo together. They stated how grateful they were for whatever time remaining they could have as a married couple. There are those who are hungry, lonely, terminal, broken and suffering.
I was just “merely inconvenienced” said my son, who was on the receiving end of my phone fury. Out of the mouths of babes…
In a moment of clarity, I decided that rather than continue my whining and plotting my retort to the person who gave me the incorrect information, I would instead attempt to offer up my little cross for those with much bigger ones than I.
Part of my morning prayer for years now, goes something like this, “I give you praise and thanks for the many gifts you will send me including the gift of my small sharing in the Cross.” I guess God wanted to take me seriously and send a little Christmas something my way that day.
In the whole scheme of things I should never, ever, ever, utter a solitary complaint to heaven. I am blessed beyond all telling. Anything the Lord brings my way is for my benefit to grow in holiness and virtue, or my opportunity to place others in their need, before me.
I grossly failed that day to be as patient as I could have been in the situation presented.
Funny how after over fifty years of practice I am still a neophyte when it comes to that virtue in particular. So my loving Father continues to give me lots of chances to keep working on this; and I am grateful.
I have the best intentions when I read that Morning Prayer. I really want to embrace the crosses that come my way. The problem is I really just don’t seem to recognize them when they are right between my eyes. No, I don’t see them for what they were until the opportunity had passed. That is the sad part; all the missed opportunities to grow, to love, to become the tiniest bit more holy.
So as we move towards another new beginning of another year, I hope to once again redouble my efforts and get my cross examination in order. I guess what I am praying for is that the Lord makes the crosses He sends really obvious, so that I may quickly see them, embrace them, and lift them up. May 2014 come to a close with a deeper appreciation of the many blessings I have been given and all the disguises that they may come in, especially the cross-shaped ones. May 2015* find us all welcoming whatever the Lord has in store for us as He seeks
*Note: This article was written and published in December of 2014. As I reread it in 2020, I am struck with the realization that after having asked the “Lord to make the crosses He sends really obvious…” little could I have known that just three months later I would get a cross I could not miss. The car never saw me until I hit the windshield. I guess I need to be more careful what I ask for because the crosses since then have been, big, obvious, and painful. Not just “inconvenient.“