That’s Just The Way It Goes Sometimes

I remember that particular Christmas season.
Our neighbors, the ones with the same last name as ours, extended an invitation.
They invited our two oldest daughters to go to see The Nutcracker in Philadelphia.
It was a wonderful invitation that my girls were looking forward to as they counted the days.

The Sunday afternoon that they had been waiting for finally came.
They got dressed up in their Christmas dresses and went into the city.
I invited our neighbors back to our house for dinner that same evening.
I also extended an invitation to another couple to join us for dessert.

The dinner conversation consisted of story after story about the beautiful ballet.
The costumes, the things they saw, and the things that surprised them were all discussed.
The seven of us sat at the dining room table plus our two neighbors as well.
My youngest daughter was in her high chair, which was next to me at the table.

She didn’t seem herself all through dinner as her sisters talked about their day.
She didn’t want to eat and spent the time drinking her milk in her sippy cup.
I looked at the time on the grandfather’s clock in the dining room.
Our other neighbors would soon arrive for dessert.

I began to clear the table so I could bring out the coffee, tea, and dessert.
I looked at my youngest daughter, who looked like she was going to fall asleep in her high chair.
Without warning, she threw up over everything.
Everyone sprang into action.

I grabbed my sweet little girl and brought her upstairs.
As if on autopilot, since the table was almost cleared, the old table cloth was removed.
I told someone where another tablecloth was kept.
The dirty one was placed in the laundry room for me to soak when I came downstairs.

I got my precious little girl cleaned up and put pajamas on her.
She was almost asleep as she lay on her dressing table.
I knew that sleep was the best thing for her.
I turned the baby monitor on; she was asleep before I even put her down in her crib.

I came down the back stairs and filled the laundry tub with water and laundry soap.
The clean table cloth was on the dining room table.
The coffee, tea, and dessert were brought in and placed on the table.
The doorbell rang; we all looked at each other in amazement.

Our other neighbors never knew what had transpired before they arrived.
We had a lovely evening, though it was much shorter than it would have been.
Everyone was tired and I was a bit distracted with my little girl asleep in her crib.
I had one ear on the monitor and one ear on the conversation.

I will never forget that evening.
It’s one that I wish I had documented on film.
It’s one that I would not have believe unless I was there.
The lovely dessert had been preceded by chaos.

I thought of that evening the other day when I made a meal for someone.
I was cooking all morning, preparing homemade soup, fresh bread, and homemade brownies.
I also prepared homemade spaghetti and meatballs in the crock pot for my husband and I.
I double-batched the brownies, so my husband could have some with his tea after dinner.

It was one of those days where I walked around quite proud of myself.
One of those days where I checked things off the list, satisfied that I had completed them.
I was able to run some errands after my morning of cooking.
I was able to come home and have my cup of tea before I set off to deliver the meal.

I placed the pot of soup, the freshly made bread, and the plate of brownies on a tray.
I put the tray on the passenger seat of my car.
I tucked a pillow between the tray and the passenger door in order to keep it steady.
I chose some music I wanted to listen to, and drove to the house.

At an intersection near my home, the car in front of me stopped quickly.
That caused my car and the car behind me to stop quickly as well.
As if in slow motion, I watched the large pot of soup tilt towards the end of the tray.
The entire pot of homemade soup fell on the floor of my car.

I looked down and saw the family’s meal on the floor.
The bread and the brownies were fine.
Only the soup had fallen.
I waited until I could safely turn around and I drove home.

I pulled in the garage and took out the mat from the passenger side of my car.
I had brought the trash over to the car door and placed the mat right in the trash bag.
I brought the large pot inside.
I decided to bring our meal of homemade spaghetti and meatballs to the family instead.

I got another pot and poured the sauce into that, making sure the lid was on tightly.
I set up the tray as lovely as I had done the first time.
I placed the tray, which now included a box of pasta, on the passenger seat of my car.
I placed the pillow strategically on the side of the tray, against the door.

I drove to the house; I was now twenty minutes late.
I explained that they were getting a different meal than the one I promised to make for them.
I explained what had happened.
I was so thankful that I had made the spaghetti sauce and could replace the ruined meal.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9, 10)

Mishaps happen.
God is concerned with the way we handle them.
Do we lash out?
Do we blame?

In this fallen world, children throw up on clean tablecloths before company comes.
In this fallen world, a pot of soup falls on the car floor without warning.
This is not a perfect world; it is not meant to be.
The imperfections and hardships of this world make us long for heaven.

Things are always a bit off here.
Even with the best of intentions, there is fallen-ness and brokenness all around us.
But in Christ, even our mishaps can be used for His glory.
Even in the mishaps, especially then, there is grace.

There is always grace.

So we press on.
We will continue to make mistakes.
We will continue to struggle and feel like we have two left feet.
But grace wins; Christ prevails.

Always.