I'm normally up at 5 to go to the gym so I have time to come home and shower, eat breakfast, and change before work at 8. (I don't shower at the gym out of principle. 5 am is too early to see old racquetball-playing guys naked. Come to think of it, there's never a good time to see old racquetball-playing guys naked.)
This schedule can vary depending on 2 major factors: what time I actually get up, and the sleep patterns of three people much shorter than myself.
Since 5:30, my 2-year-old has been out of her room 7 times. It is now 6:08. I was all ready to go, then I guess she heard the floor creaking or my keys jangling, because out of her room she came. And she doesn't come out of her room quietly. She wrestles with the doorknob just at the edge of her reach, turns it, opens the door, then snaps the knob loose. I'm a little surprised we're the only 2 awake.
I leaned several years ago that if I don't make it to the gym before the kids are up, the idea is pretty much shot for the day. And this was going to be a good day. Not because of what I had planned to do, but I have the energy to do a lot. Run 10 miles? Can do. Throw around more weight than Conan the Barbarian? I'm there. Heck, I may even show that rowing machine who's boss.
I had my plans. Those plans don't matter too much to her right now.
There's a great line in church culture: Want to make God laugh? Tell Him your plans. It's the listening to God's plans that is the hard part. Like this stubborn little girl, we keep waiting for God to stop interrupting so we can get on with whatever it was. But the interrupting takes us where He wants us to be, usually waaaaaay outside a self-constructed comfort zone.
It's difficult to see God's big picture. It's difficult to see a 2-year-old's big picture. I'm pretty sure it revolves around Dora the Explorer.
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