My 18 month old granddaughter was confused when I showed up at daycare yesterday. It was the first day of her 'toddler room' transition - a day filled with change - and then, out of the blue, there I was to pick her up. At first she didn't know what to do, and just sat in her toddler chair. When I said my name and asked if she wanted to go home, then she stood up, reached out and let me take her into my arms.
Then she hugged me for what must have been three minutes.
Never before had she held on like this. It was so beautiful. There was no way I was going to rush her into putting on her coat and boots. I just embraced her and felt a deep sense of being there for her.
It must be hard for little ones; processing life transitions with no real sense of what the schedule or timing is. How could she know it would be me showing up at 2:45 pm? Yet, because she doesn't know these things, I suppose there's also a freedom. When you can't tell the time, you can't worry about it as much.
Over the past year God has been forcing me to be more childlike in my waiting. For decades I've tried to control time and worked hard to make life play out on schedule; but now that's not working. I suppose it never did, but I thought it did.
This vocational transition to the spiritual toddler room has been very confusing for me. I keep having to let go of more and more things, more and more often. And I have. And things are changing. I can feel it. And the truth is, I now know that I'll never know for sure what God's timing or plan is for my life. Surprisingly I'm mostly at peace with this.
But that doesn't mean that when he shows up to take me home (vocationally and eternally), that I am not going to hold on for dear life.
"At that time I will gather you; at that time I will bring you home.
I will give you honor and praise among all the peoples of the earth
when I restore your fortunes before your very eyes,”
Zephaniah 3:20, NIV