Change of Plans

I had it all planned out. We made the phone calls everyone was coming around 6. Matt and I spent two hours getting the house clean, brownies and coffee made, and everything set up. We were getting ready for our new small group, one that I am SOO excited about. Us and two other couples, both with kids around the same ages. We have prayed and waited for a group like this for so long. Fast forward to 5:35.

I was wrapping up some dishes so the kitchen was clean when Molli told met there was a woman at my door. Sure enough, it was a woman and her two children. They had been in church this morning so I recognized them. Come to find out, they were homeless. We spent the next half an hour trying to get her into the woman and children shelter here in town. Our friends show up with all their children and I think," ok we got her set and now we can go about our meeting." My dad then showed up and asked the three guys if they can go with the dad and help him move out of where they had been living. Now my plan was starting to unravel. I started to get frustrated. These people were messing it all up! Didn't they know that we needed to have our little comfortable meeting and learn about Jesus??!! After all was said and done (suffice to say, we never got to have our first meeting) and everyone went home and the kids are in bed, I'm sitting here. I confess that as I started typing it was to vent about poor little me and how my meeting and best laid plans got messed up by a needy family. But clearly, this was a God thing. He needed me to see that tonight we needed to BE the church, not just talk about it or learn about it. This family needed us, needed our hands, feet, vans and love. Looking back I am glad for the interruption. As I tucked the kids in tonight, I was crying. Sydney wiped my tear away and said, "Mommy, what's wrong?" I kissed her and just told her that I was so thankful to Jesus that we have a home, beds to sleep in, food to eat, clothes to wear, and family to surround us with love. How often we take those small things for granted. So I am thankful tonight for my change of plans!

This past Sunday marked a year that my grandpa died. The day was heavy, full of memories and tears. I went into his bedroom, gathered his pillow to my face and I could still smell him. I walk into their house a couple of times I week and sometimes I still think I will see him in his big chair. This man meant so much to me. We saw them so much growing up. And then they moved next door. He was a part of almost every Christmas and Thanksgiving since I was 12. All through my teenage years he was there, doing weekly room inspections, yelling at me for various things. He taught me to drive in their big white station wagon. I almost killed both of us while he was teaching me to pass. He and Grandma had dinner with our family at least once a week followed by games. He was there when Noah was born and we knew that something wasn't right. He was holding my hand when mom and dad told us that Noah had Cerebral Palsy. He drove down with me to college, exclaiming how glad he was that I was now far away. He was one of the first people to know that I was pregnant with Jonah. He took me aside on my wedding day and told me to feed Matt well and love him always. He drove our getaway car. He held each of my children when they were days old, but was quick to hand them back, claiming they were too small yet, he'd play with them when they were bigger. He wept when we left to move to Nebraska, he urged me to hurry and bring his kids back to him when we moved home. He was there for most of the kids birthday parties, always making sure no one was eating too much. He played hard with the kids, throwing them into the pool, driving them around on his cart, loving on them always.

This man was so much more than my grandfather, he was one of my closest confindants, my champion when life felt like just too much, ever the prankster, ever the hugger....just my grandpa.