that time I knew better than God

Being disappointed is so....disappointing.

I have been checking my email ferociously; all last week, and all yesterday, hoping to learn that my youngest has received a well deserved called back for the school play. Because this little one of mine? He can sing! Well, no such e mail has arrived. And when my baby came home from school yesterday he matter of factly told me, "I didn't get a call back or a leading role. They said all of the leads were cast. But maybe I will get chorus." I smiled real big and cheerfully said, "Absolutely! You never know! It's in God's hands, let's just wait and see." That is what I said. What I was thinking was, "You were robbed, kid! Robbed and cheated and, what, are they deaf?? Did they not hear you?? You so deserve better than that stinking chorus!"

Because that is how I felt.

It is how I still sort of feel.

He was not given the chance he deserved.

Clearly, they got him all wrong.

So unfair.

"I guess it just isn't my year" he said, and, while he picked up a video game and continued on with life, I felt as if every bit of air was punched out of me, because I mean, why? Why can't it be his year, ya know? Why couldn't he get a call back? They had to call back kids, so why not mine? And trust me, I am not some crazy stage mom who thinks her kid can sing. He can sing! My oldest daughter, however? Well, we pay her to not sing. And so, it just makes no sense to me. I thought he had this. And we prayed for it. We prayed hard. I'll bet the kid who did get a call back didn't have a mother on her knees praying! In fact, I'll bet she's a pagan! I will bet the whole cast are pagans! We are better off having nothing to do with this God-less show!

Yes. I have lost my mind over this stupid school play.

I just wanted this so badly for him. Have you ever felt like this about your kid? I promise, I did not want this for me. I wanted it for him. Because I am his mother, and I know best what he needs. I wanted this because I know how much this would help him; how it would lift his spirits, build a better self esteem, finally allow him to shine. How did God get this so wrong?

I didn't want to show I was upset, so I took the dogs out to the pool, and through sorrowful tears I said over and over again, "Sacred heart of Jesus, I trust in You, Sacred heart of Jesus, I trust in You, Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in You." But I sort of didn't.

"You see this child: he is destined for the fall and for the rising of many in Israel, destined to be a sign that is rejected." Luke 2:34

As I prayed my prayer of trust under a cold and grey sky, I immediately went to Mary, and the rosary I had prayed earlier that morning. I stood with her and her baby Jesus at the presentation, I listened to the words that pierced her soul. From the moment the angel appeared to her, to the moment she stood at the foot of the cross, her road was not smooth. Not her road. And not her Son's road. There was a whole lot of unfair, of "getting Him all wrong", of not giving her baby boy what he deserved. And yet, I can not find anywhere in my Bible the time Mary said, "Are you kidding me, God? No way can you allow this to happen to my son! That's so unfair! Come on, God! I am his mother! I know what He needs better than you do!" . And as I pondered this, the sun appeared out of nowhere. I turned my body to face the light. Like a silver beam, it shot through the bare trees, and rested gently upon my face. The disappointment, it was still there. But so was grace. How good to have a heavenly Mother! What an enormous comfort to know and to recall that never, ever, were we promised that this would be easy. What a relief to recall that this life on earth is not all that there is. Not for me. And not for my children.

Deep down, I know God has a good plan. Better than the call back. Certainly better than the chorus. (Trust me, in grade school productions, anything is better than the chorus. ) And believe it or not, as the minutes tick by, I am comforted by the very discomfort of not having things go my way. Because it is precisely this sort of thing that gets me chanting prayers outside in the cold; that gets me up from the comfy couch praying, to hard wooden floors on bended knees. It is this very sort of moment that leads me into the cold, turns my body around, and finds the light. This little trust of mine never fails to lead me closer to Mary, who lovingly takes me by the hand, and leads me to the heart of her Son. The very heart that knows what He is doing, despite the fact that so often I try to tell Him I know better; To the very heart that stopped beating just for me; me, of so little faith, so that I could live joyfully and abundantly. What more proof do I need to trust that He's got this? What more, really, can He do?

My little boy just might be right. Maybe this is not his year for what we had planned.

Maybe it is his year for what God has planned.

Sacred heart of Jesus, I trust in you. For real, this time.