My daughter and I met each other in the hallway of the strange house, still in pajamas, our eyes bleary and our smiles a bit lopsided. We hugged each other and half whispered the same words, amid the chatter of little voices around us.
“Happy Mother’s Day.”
It had been a week!
It’d been a couple of weeks but this last one topped them all.
The plan was simple. I would fly to Texas on Monday and help my daughter finish packing up her little family for their move to New Mexico.
We’d load the furniture with the help of their able-bodied young friends on Tuesday afternoon and feed them pizza for their efforts. After they said some difficult goodbyes, we would leave Wednesday morning to begin the 11-hr. trek to the next state.
We planned to take our time and enjoy the scenery along the way, arriving at the new base by Sunday, with enough energy left to move them into the new house by Tuesday, Lord willing.
The Lord wasn’t willing.
The flights were screwed up and I finally got to San Antonio after the clock said Tuesday. I could hardly tell because my eyes were half closed with sleep and it was very dark.
The packing cubes didn’t come when they were supposed to.
My son-in-law had to wait two extra days on exit paperwork.
And then one of the kids started puking.
When we finally got left on Friday, we had to have trash bags at the ready to catch stuff coming out of the wrong places.
And it rained.
There wasn’t much chance of sightseeing, although we did drive through Palo Dura Canyon, my daughter and I dashing in and out of the cold rain for a few pictures.
I thought all of Texas is hot in the summer, but I was wrong.
The canyon is cold and windy, at least on rainy days. And I didn’t have a coat. I mean, who thinks of bringing a coat to Texas in the middle of May?
Turns out, the smart people did, but I am not a well-seasoned tourist. And it showed.
Then another child started with the stomach bug.
By this time, we just wanted to be done traveling. If we could get to the base, maybe we could rest and regroup before signing papers to move into the house.
But now we are here in temporary living and there is no permanent house after all.
So, we must move from one temporary house to another. I may have to fly home before I can help her move into her new home.
And the calendar proclaims today is a day for celebrating mothers, and we are both too exhausted to celebrate the fact. Today won’t be our most delightful memory, I am sure, but it will certainly not be soon forgotten.
As I hug my beautiful daughter in that little hallway, wishing her a Happy Mother’s Day, I can’t help but be so proud of her. She has handled the changes with grace, making the needed adjustments, coping with sick kids, and ruined hikes in the canyon. She has dealt with the feeling of homelessness in a new, strange land, preparing to move to yet another temporary house later today, one she hopes will not be taken from her until moving into her ‘real home” next week.
Sometimes watching my daughter struggle with the stress of being a young mother is difficult. Sometimes trying to be a supportive mother to her falls flat.
This week will be nothing like we planned. I won’t get to help her set up housekeeping in her new home and it makes me sad.
But we will enjoy our time together in whatever way we spend it. When the walls feel too close, we drive around on an unfamiliar base to relieve the stress of the day. We look for prairie dogs and let the kids enjoy an hour at the playground.
And it makes it all seem a little easier.
I can be okay with our ruined plans because I know that everything happens for a reason. God is intimately involved with every detail of our days, allowing each obstacle, each change for reasons we cannot see.
I choose to trust that he knows what he is doing. After all, he has made a promise, one that he won’t take back.
“I will guide you along the best pathway for your life. I will advise you and watch over you.”
He is doing that each day; in the stressful ones when we beg him for mercy, and in the easy ones when we take his guidance for granted.
My daughter’s pathway the past week has certainly been full of rocky places and difficult adjustments. However, I know that the same God who has advised and watched over me each day until now will be faithful in guiding her steps in the future when I must leave her.
And Lord willing, the kids will continue to regain health and a house will be provided for them, making the days less stressful. And I will make it back home to my Georgia family at the end of the week in safety.
I do hope the Lord is willing!