I Guess I'll Have to Change My Plan

The 4th of July is right around the corner. In fact, it's technically after midnight as I write this so that would make today the 3rd. The 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays! It always has been. When I was a kid I loved the fireworks. I loved Pop-its and Sparklers. I loved the great big party my mom and dad had at their house. We would invite all of our friends who are family over for the day. They would bring meat to grill and side dishes and desserts. They would bring swimsuits and baseball mitts and croquet sets. They would come early and stay late. We would swim and play ball and laugh and have so much fun together.

But my favorite part was the fireworks. Us group of kids would always go to the fireworks tent on the morning of the 4th as soon as everyone got there. All the families would pool our money, or bring their own fireworks, and us kids would run and buy fireworks together. Big box sets of mortars, Roman candles, fountains, parachutes, sparklers. You name it, we'd buy it and light it on fire. My friend Tim and I would always be in charge of the fireworks. Even after that one year when the mortar fell over and we almost killed everyone, they still let us be in charge of the fireworks. It made my heart happy. It was something I looked forward to all year long. 

And then, I got married and got pregnant and had Amelia. At eighteen months, Amelia was diagnosed with sensory processing disorder. Her worst sensitivity? Hearing.  Her worst time ever? The fireworks on the 4th of July.  She cannot stand the fireworks. She hates the sound of them. They terrify her. They drive her to the brink of a breakdown. As soon as the stores start erecting the white tents seen all over the county, her panic begins. It starts small. Just a subtle "oh no, mommy..." and then it's "how many firework tents do we need in this county?" And then it's the dreaded countdown to the 4th of July. 

It's gotten better. There was a time where I would desperately search for places that didn't have fireworks. But that was virtually impossible. This year, the panic hasn't set in quite yet. We have started with the positive self-talk: "I know that it is only fireworks and that I don't have to be afraid of them." But as the day looms closer, her unease sets a little deeper. We haven't set off fireworks for years. There's no more party. No more baseball. 

This year, there seems to be more fireworks festivals. Or at least there are new ones. The Manette Bridge was the new home to a fireworks show this year and I found myself longing to go, wishing I could pack my girls up in the car and go watch the beauty that is fireworks. But instead, we laid on the bed and read Harry Potter in front of a fan, trying unsuccessfully to drown out the monstrous booms that happened just outside our little world. 

How did this happen? How did I go from the pyro queen lighting things on fire and blowing everything up with my bestie Tim, to raising a little girl that's terrified of fireworks? This year for the first time in a while, I'm being a brat about it. I wanted to go to Manette. I want the days of parties and fireworks back. I want to go to the tent at Safeway with my friends and buy the biggest box set of fireworks ever and set them off long into the darkness. That was always my plan. That was always what I envisioned. Bundling my kids up and setting them on the trampoline to watch while mommy gave them a fireworks show to rival the Space Needle. That was my plan. 

But, that wasn't God's plan...

God's plan involved Amelia. God's plan was for me to get to be momma to this amazing, bright, lovable, wonderful little girl who just so happens to have a great fear of something that I happen to have a great love for. God's plan didn't include spending hundreds of dollars on mortars and bottle rockets, but instead saving my money and going to bed early to hold my baby until either she drifts off to sleep or the war zone outside our window ceases. I will openly admit that there are times when my heart is sad and I am so disappointed that I can't do fireworks. That I can't share fireworks with my kids. But, God's plan was different. And I am thankful because I wouldn't trade my babies for anything. Not even fountains and parachutes. 

Life is funny. We make plans. We dream about how life is going to be. We hope and pray for the journey and the ending that we want. But that's not how Father God works. He is the Master planner. He is the one in control. He is the one that has our lives planned down to the very second. He has a vision for us, a life vision for how our days are going to be laid out. Sometimes our plans match His. More often than not, His plan is better. 

There will be moments that don't seem better. There will times where we cry and lament and shake our fists and wonder what the heck He is thinking. Like the fact that two years ago today, he took Tom from us. How could His plan for that be better? We aren't better without my other dad. We aren't better with holes in our hearts and the pain of losing a loved one. But even in that mess there's a message. Even in the sadness of losing Tom, God has a plan. He has a plan for Tom. He has a plan for those of us left behind. The pain of not having Tom with us still stings. I still expect him to come up the stairs when it's pool time. I still think of things I can't wait to tell him. Hoping to share my girls with him. I still wish oh so desperately to be able to hug him one more time. Not my plan to have Tom leave us. 

This life is all planned out by God. He is in control. He is in charge. As Christians, it is hard but it is so important to have faith in God's plan. Even when it's hard. Even when we question what He is thinking. Even when we can't see the good that could come of this situation. God is in control. God is in charge. God is working on our lives. And in each and every situation we will eventually be able to look back and say "There it is!" There's the message in the mess. There's the plan that I couldn't see at the time. There's the blessing that was hiding around the corner. 

So, I'll hold Amelia and I'll walk and breathe and guide her through the 4th of July. I'll reassure her and let her know that it is all ok. That there's a plan for that even. God knows our every need. God even knows the needs we don't know about. He is forgiving and gracious and loves us so very much. So much that He has a plan! A plan that included sending his Son over 2000 years ago to die on the cross and save us from sin. His plan! I'm so grateful for His plan!

So, I guess I'll have to change my plans. All of them. I need to change my plan to His plan! I need to have faith that He is working out all things for my good. I need to let go and let God take control of my life because I need Him to be in charge. It's not my plan anymore...but it never really was...His plan!