A common problem at our age is finding out we have gotten a late start on our future. Maybe it's not a late start, maybe it's just how God planned it for us.
One night this week, Bruce bounded into the house from his short walk home from the hospital. I could tell he was pumped even after a 12 hour shift.
I was not however, I was exhausted from having spent the day with 15 excited kids sledding, ice sculpting, and making hot chocolate and s'mores. So when Bruce sprinted into the house at ten at night my reaction was to go into my turtle shell mode. "I can't hear you...LALALA" and all that.
"Here's how we are going to do the next two years!" This he said with finality and joy.
"Who's we?" was my turtle response. I am not part of we if this was decided while I wore myself out with the school kids and also if it was decided while you were working your shift... I think these thoughts deep within my shell of safety. "Am I invited to this party?" I ask waspishly as he goes to shower which successfully take the smile off his face.
A minute later, I am begging for the rest of the plan through the steam rising from the shower which he hesitates to give me now that I have in effect thrown ice water on him.
Cautiously, he gave me the rest of the plan: working weekends while he is in nurses training so he is able to still help with the cost of living and do classes at the same time.
He doesn't mention it but my mind is reeling with doing Sunday alone. I have been brought up to attend church every Sunday morning. Together. As a family. Already I have gone through the sacrifice of Sundays being iffy because of the hospital and of him being an EMT. What will I do about my people who love us and call us family and will think all manner of critical thoughts about us for doing such a thing?
The silence in our bedroom is stiff between us as I wrestle with my reactions and fears. I pray a little. I remind myself of the fact that Bruce is the leader in my home, that God is still on His throne, and that only HE can see the big picture.
Across the darkness I ask my husband if he feels peace about becoming a nurse and if he feels this is God's will for him; for us as a family.
I get a solid "Yes".
That's my answer of course. I begin to quote the words of the song:
God will make a way,
When there seems to be no way.
He works in ways we cannot see,
He will make a way for me.
He will be my guide,
Hold me closely to His side.
With love and strength for each new day,
He will make a way; He will make a way.
This is all we have to go on, but it is enough. Our hands reach out to clasps while we share these thoughts: If we are going to get through the next two years, we must be friends. We must be bonded and united that God will make our way clear. Worry about what others will think is a distraction. God is asking us to move forward one step at a time. Let's do it in faith, nothing wavering.
Bruce, like the hare, is able to look at a two year period as a blip across a screen.
I must only do today.
Maybe one little turtle step at a time but with my head held high; not inside my shell where it isn't really very safe after all.
Also, it's lonely in there.
I'd much rather be out here with the hare, watching him bound.