Plan

The run up to this year’s birthday was not a happy one. Unemployed. Father-in-Law with cancer. Crazy travel schedule. No glamorous party planned. But the sadness seemed disconnected to the events. There was something deeper.

When I was a little girl, I loved Crayola pencils. I loved drawing people, and designing clothes for them. And I loved drawing families.

I spent hours as a child creating villages with my Playmobile figures, making houses & schools & shops, even creating oatmeal in bowls for them. I loved the dynamics of their little families.

I never imagined being married. I never dreamt of a big white wedding day. I never knew what kind of house I really wanted to live in (though the heated bathroom floors in my friend Freya’s house are pretty cool).

But I always had in my head that at 25 I would have a child.

25 just seemed like the right age; enough maturity, but still young and fun.

And here I was, the light fading on my first quarter of a century, and there was no child to carry through the sunset.  The tears fell swiftly.

My plan was ruined.

When you translate the word “plan” into Hebrew there are a number of terms used. As I was reading through them, one stood out to me:

‘Damah’ meaning “to be like”

Plan…to be like…

Is that the problem?

Our plans set an expectation; something or someone we desire to be like?

Married by a certain age, driving a particular car, living in a specific area, promoted by a specified time…so we can be just like

Our brother

Parents

Cousin’s girlfriend’s best friend’s uncle’s dog.

Just like…the schematics detailing our existence that we have held so tightly onto…

But are now weeping abysmally as the ink on the paper drips off the page

“Exactly as I planned, it will happen

following my blueprints, it will take shape”

That’s, what he said

As he set himself up for failure.

Because those words weren’t his own.

But the speaking

Of Father God.

We will never fulfill our plans.

Things will never work out the way we expect.

Get over it.

Now.

Before life takes such a massive bite out of your butt that you cannot sit down for weeks.

“We plan the way we want to live,

but only God makes us able to live it”

I never would have planned that Steve and I, after two and a half months of dating, would spend a whole year in different countries.

I never would have planned to have a wedding in another country and give myself five and a half months to get ready and only arrive ten days before the service.

I never would have planned to live 5000 long miles away from all I knew and all who I knew.

I never would have planned that the majority of my friends in Texas were at least ten years older than me, all with children.

I never would have planned to leave a job with no guarantee of another job right away.

This is not what I planned to be like.

But.

Life

Whenever it’s

That time of the month

Mr Red

Surfing the crimson tide

The painters are in

Amidst the cramps, pain, nausea and restless nights sleep, there is one thought that stops me cursing the day I was born with a uterus.

“This happens because, one day, life will come from me”

One day all this will be worth it because a tiny little fetus will grow inside of me, to be birthed (in literally a bloody mess) and come to be a part of this world

I will bring life.

I recently wrote on a status update that my motivation to go the gym was that I wanted “my baby to stay in the Hilton, not the Holiday Inn”; I want my body to be in the best shape possible so that it provides a luxurious environment for growth

I want my body to create an arena for the best life possible.

As women, we bring forth life.

We are intentionally created by Father God as

Caring

Loving

Kind

Hospitable

There is a reason we notice

That spot on the floor

The wet towels left out

The child who hasn’t been fed

The attempt at covering up bruises and cut marks on an arm

The person in the room who hasn’t been said “hello” to yet

The sadness in our friends eyes even though “everything’s fine”

Because we are made to bring life.

I have a beautiful friend who recently miscarried…ever had a situation where you felt like you fell short of bringing life, you didn’t say that word of encouragement, you didn’t stop the bullying, you didn’t defend that person…

I have another friend who after years of infertility issues is eagerly awaiting a precious baby boy as the due date looms just a week away…that feeling of life just ready to burst out, as you sing a song that blesses everyone, or you invite a sad friend over for dinner, or carefully wrap a present for a friend’s birthday…

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

You may be struggling to believe your life is anything special, or going anywhere, but there is a continual hope, a comfort that you will bring life.

You will make a difference.

You will birth that child.

You will get that job.

You will say the right thing.

You will make a great wife.

Each day brings a reminder

as we sit down

(rather than stand)

to pee:

“I was made to bring life”

In my words, my cooking, my work, my texts, my cleaning, my status updates, my studies, my ironing, my love for those around me…

The thief came to steal self-confidence, kill joy and destroy families; to ruin and break down relationships, tear apart hearts, but we, as women, join in the work of Jesus, and come to bring life in all its abundance and glory and brilliance, inspiring hope and happiness to all those we come in contact with.

You

Bring

Life.

A beautiful picture of life...
...Jemi was just 17 hours old in this picture!!