Unable to Expect the Unexpected

There are so many situations where a little advance notice would have helped my reaction. I could have chosen my words carefully or prepared my heart to deal with the emotions it was asked to experience. And I certainly wouldn't be frozen mid-movement while my heart tightens within my chest.

But that's not possible when raising children.

My four-year-old, Wyatt, always seems to come up with thoughts or questions that make me wonder what's really going on in that head of his. Mostly, his unexpectedness is appreciated, making life have flavor, mystery, and the delightful joy of childhood's inquisitiveness. Yet, sometimes...

Friday evening, I was delivering him to Oma and Opa's house for "date night." For the life of me, I can't remember his words before or my words after. Me, the woman who can replay entire conversations in my mind from ten years ago is left remembering only seven of his words.

"I wish I had an older brother."

It's been a long time since he and I talked about my two miscarriages. He's been told that God chose to take those babies home to heaven before he was born, but it's not something we've discussed recently.

Fall is not the time of year I think about these losses. But Wyatt's longing for the baby who was but wasn't kept returning to my mind, making me mourn again not for myself but for him.

In passing, I relayed Wyatt's words to my husband, not letting on the weight these seven simple words brought to my heart. No one knew they kept coming back to my mind at random times of the day.

But God.

How many times in my life have I said those words? How many times have they brought joy, relief, comfort, understanding long before I even asked for it?

At Wednesday morning Bible study, my mother shared a book she had found while flipping through an 80 page CBD Christian book catalog. Of all the 1000+ books advertised within, I firmly believe God pointed her to a book entitled Heaven is for Real: A Little Boy's Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back. Not knowing Wyatt's words only days before, she read aloud the book's description:

"Is there life after death? Just ask 4-year-old Colton, who emerged from life-threatening surgery with astounding details about heaven! Colton's detailed account includes floating away looking down on his dad praying in the hospital, seeing God's throne, and meeting relatives--including his sister who died in a miscarriage (and whom his parents had never mentioned)" (my italics).

This may not be the kind of "stuff" you believe in. But I believe there are no coincidences in life. There are only God-incidences.

But. God.

Photo: An unexpected gift this morning from Wyatt--drooping morning glories laid atop my Bible.