P is for Patiently Waiting (and Plans That Changed Overnight)

                      

P is for Patiently Waiting (and Plans That Changed Overnight)

I was supposed to be boarding a plane to Florida today.

There should have been sunshine. Grandbaby giggles. Frosting on little fingers. A suitcase with sandals instead of snow boots.

Instead, I’m sitting in a hospital room.

Mike’s AV fistula collapsed from a blood clot. A thrombectomy was performed this morning. He's in dialysis now. The steady beep of machines instead of the sound of “Happy Birthday.”

This is not the plan I had circled on the calendar.

But here’s the thing about patience, it rarely shows up when you’re lounging in Florida.

It shows up in waiting rooms.

In the space between “we thought” and “we trust.”

Mike's body has been fighting battles most people will never see — Ankylosing Spondylitis, chronic kidney disease, diabetes, a broken back, and today was another reminder that our life is often measured not in vacations, but in vitals.

Patiently waiting isn’t passive, and it isn't easy. It’s choosing to stay steady when the fistula collapses, and when the flight gets canceled. It's when the road home is covered in snow and your nerves are a little frayed at the edges as you anticipate the white knuckles ride home.

I’m not patient because I like waiting.

I’m patient because I have no choice. This is part of the vows I took. love stays, love sits in hospital chairs, love listens to beeping machines, and call lights, patients yelling in the hall way, nurses giggling at the desk.

Love drives carefully through snow instead of chasing sunshine.

Proverbs 16:9 says, “In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.”

Today, my steps are not heading to Florida.

They’re walking down a hospital hallway.

And somehow, even here, especially here, God is still establishing them.

Maybe P isn’t just for patiently waiting.

Maybe P is for presence, pivoting, and

for plans that change but purpose that doesn’t.

So today, maybe P isn’t for plane tickets, but instead It’s for parking garages and pivoting.

For choosing love over luggage.

Presence over palm trees.

This alphabet I’m writing isn’t neat or predictable, It’s lived. As for plans, God's are always better than mine, even when in the moment I'm disappointed, sad, and emotionally drained... I trust his plan for both Mike & me and I know whether I can see it or not, it's perfect.