Things are not going according to the plan.
If I had a phrase that would sum up the last couple/few days–and even years–of my life, it would be this. I was supposed to spend the day today packing up baby gear to give away, consign, donate. I was supposed to be gathering up this gear that was intended for the second child I’d planned, but did not manifest. Did that happen? No. Stomach bug gave its (I hope) last stand. I thought Daughter had turned a corner after Sunday, but Monday night a series of surprise, boomerang, dead-body-pop-back-up-at-the-end-of-the- horror-movie puke sessions showed up hourly between 11 pm and 2 am. At least my five year old was able to aim the last two and flush them away. There was no bedding left to change. Anyway, enough puke talk. I did not sort and give away Mount Babymore.
So, I was all geared up to deal with my baby gear. I let about 30% of it go to Cousin L, who was at Nanny’s funeral. It felt surprisingly good. Honestly, the thought of the colossal pile of baby gear being gone felt freeing. It would no longer have mental taunting power over me. It wouldn’t remind me about how things didn’t work in so many ways.
A few weeks ago, I attended a church service intended to speak to the congregation about allowing God into your finances. While I read it that way, more loudly my heart responded to the question, “If you are going to turn your life over to God, you need to turn over your possessions too.” All I could imagine was this mountain of baby gear that I couldn’t trust God to deliver on. I couldn’t trust Him to give me a second baby, and I couldn’t trust Him to give me peace without a second baby. So I held onto my stuff. It sat there with no one getting the benefit. It was hoarded. It was five talents buried.
As I was processing the nudge to put the baby gear back into circulation, I mused that I had bought everything in green so a second baby of a different sex could get double play out of everything. A precious mentor reminded me how well off I really am and how great I am at finding deals. Whereas it may feel that this chapter is closing, you never know, God may just want you to buy pink OR blue later. The Bible is filled with geriatric and problem pregnancies. Those babies went on to lead very significant lives. (Who is to say that the Daughter I already have is that significant person, whose birth was a miracle, unrecognized at the time?)
I don’t know what is going to happen, but I know I am unclenching my grip on these particular possessions. I am trusting God with the story.
Now, I even get to trust God with the fact that he didn’t want me doing the sorting today. Okay, okay, God. I am here. Send me.