God's Inspired Plan

The plump nun paced in front of the rows of desks fitted in her starched dress and habit. She was invigorated by her lunch and her message to be delivered in religion class today. Sister Marie wore pink rimmed glasses with blush pink colored lenses that accentuated her pasty pale skin. Ridged rows of aged teeth hid behind Chapstick-laced lips. Her thin white hair slicked into position, exposed comb track marks of gelled perfection that disappeared behind her raised habit.
She was an experienced master of the eighth grade, as she reminded us often of her military school training. She was ready. The urge to deliver the “Divine Calling” lesson had a potent purpose: to communicate and instill a deep discernment in each one of us, attentive by demand.
Sister “Pink Eyes” met each of our fixed gazes and vocalized the question she was bursting out of her robust seams to ask, “Is God calling you?”
I shifted ever so slightly, desperate not to draw attention to my thin twelve-year-old frame, as I moved my weight from one cheek to other on the hard-butt metal rimmed fixed wooden desk. I struggled to listen, and I might have heard something, but it was only Sister rephrasing her question by saying, “It may be a small voice, at the back of your head…A whisper.”
Had I heard it? I wondered. I couldn’t be sure. Was God asking me to become a nun and be what I saw before me in pink glasses and dominating authority? I wasn’t even sure she liked kids, much less teaching them.
I cut a deal right then and there. “God, it’s me,” I said, “I’ve got a plan.”
The wheels were burning tread in my mind. I had to talk fast to get my point across. “Please let me grow up and find a good husband, “I begged. I risked looking over at Joe, picking his cuticles, then Tony, in his relaxed handsome glory. “Bill would be all right,” I settled, “He’s nice enough.”
I thought more about my calling and added, “Oh, and let me teach. I will raise children in my own family, in school, and all over, but let me teach and love children without being a nun!”
And God said, “Yes.”
The year I turned twenty-two I met my future husband, kind and handsome, and I prayed that God would give us the strength we needed to have a blessed marriage.
And God said, “Yes.”
At twenty-seven I asked for healthy children, children that would grow up to contribute and lead loving lives in service to the Lord.
And God said, “Yes.”
I taught for seventeen years, every grade from kindergarten to sixth grade, loving and learning from each child. During my third pregnancy at the age of thirty-nine I asked God to bless my child and give me the strength to do His will.
And God said, “Yes.”
When the blood test came back positive at twenty weeks, and the ultrasound confirmed that I was carrying a child with a congenital heart defect and the possibility of Down syndrome, God asked me, “Will you love this child?
And I said, “Yes.”
That answer felt like a load of questions and fears had been dropped in my swollen lap. I relied on faith to persist and face each challenge, with the help of family and friends.
I glanced over my life and saw that all along I had been building a relationship with God. This friend of mine was not as scary to me as Sister Marie made him sound. He was a trusted, close friend, one I talked with often and I felt the comfort of his presence in my life.
So when I held my infant girl, just one-month-old asleep in my lap, I felt I had every right to give my friend, my God, every ounce of pain I was carrying back in his face.
“Why?” I screamed, “Why me? Why did you choose me to have this child?”
“You said, yes,” God answered.
“Well, I’m going to need some help!” I yelled back at him, “I need your help to raise this baby in our family, and help others in our community.”
God said, “That is what you were meant to do.”
I felt his message solidify in my bones. My body relaxed from its tense position and my soul was at peace. I relaxed against the faded green couch and velvety eggplant colored pillows. I lifted my little girl to my face and kissed her sweetly formed lips, her low bridge on her nose, and her curved eyelids with extra folds of soft skin. My precious baby, God knew exactly what he was doing when he created her. I returned to the classroom of my twelfth year for an instant and remembered the whisper I heard....I didn’t have the answers, or the plan laid out in a map before me. I just knew God would walk with me. His loving guidance had always been a part of my life and I could trust that his presence would be part of my future, one small step at a time.

love,

Diane