In my 25 (almost 26) years of life, I still haven't fully learned the concept of expecting the unexpected. The planner in me wants everything to turn out a certain way. I set expectations in my mind and then disappointment often creeps in when those expectations aren't met. Today was one of those days.
John and I slept in this morning after a late night of playing cards with some friends. We woke up to have some breakfast before he headed off to practice. While Saturdays are usually game days, this week Phoenix Hagen plays on Sunday. Off he went to practice while I stayed here and made some tea, had my quiet time and then decided that a warm bath and a novel were calling my name. In my mind, it was to be the perfect and relaxing afternoon.
As I was sitting in the tub, the phone rang. Not once, not twice, but finally three times. I pulled myself out of the tub, dripping water all over the tiled bathroom floor and into the living room to reach the phone before the caller hung up once again. It was "John's cell" calling. I knew it must be something important, he usually isn't so persistent.
"Suzanne, could you fill up the bathtub with cold water? I sprained my ankle during practice."
I don't remember exactly how I responded. But, I do remember saying I was in the bathtub and I just dripped water all over the floor to get to the phone. Probably not the loving response he was expecting.
"Well, I'll be there in five minutes," was his response.
I got back into the tub and actually debated for a minute whether to start draining the water or let him wait for a few minutes. And then I was convicted of my selfishness. How could I even contemplate such a thing? I pulled the plug out with my toes and watched the water drain as I wondered what type of mood John would be in when he got home.
I had a choice. I could have followed through with my selfishness, but in hindsight it would have just caused further frustration for John. When I saw him limping up the stairs I was all the more thankful that the Holy Spirit was quick to point out my sin. As I prepared his lunch while he soaked his foot, I became even more disappointed that I hadn't immediately been gracious enough to display sympathy when he first called.
John returned from treatment to find me propped up on the couch with tears streaming down my face. A combination of my selfishness, pregnancy hormones, a character in my novel dying, missing my family who are all gathering to celebrate my grandmother's birthday today, and thinking of the impending funeral for John's aunt was apparently too much for me to handle. Combine that with the realization that I hadn't felt the baby move today and I was a mess.
He sat down on the black leather sectional and I asked for his forgiveness. He graciously accepted it as we talked about how my response to his phone call had made us both feel. And then, all of a sudden... I felt the baby kick! It must have been an answer to a quick prayer I had said earlier. John quickly placed his hand on my belly, like he has done for the past week or so, hoping to feel the action as well. And then...
HE FELT THE BABY MOVE! It was the first time he was able to feel from the outside. My heart filled with joy as a smile quickly crept across his face. I explained once again that I hadn't felt the baby move all day. His response was, "He was just waiting for daddy to get home." And then Baby Turek kicked twice more for daddy to feel.
It was as if God was reminding me that sure, sometimes the unexpected brings inconvenience, sadness or sorrow. But often times, the unexpected moments are the absolute best moments of them all.