I knew what awaited me....

Writing assignment: " I knew what awaited me..."  

I had a vague notion - enough for the color to drain from my face - what was in store for the rest of my life when she held the plus-sign up to my eyes - it shimmered red in the dim foyer light.  This notion was more accurate than the notion I’d had when she’d called 30 minutes earlier to say we needed to talk. 

It was early fall and I’d been wheeling my bike out the door to see my friend; we were working on plans for a Pacific Crest Trail-hike after graduation.  While hiking, we’d formalize our partnership and sketch out the foundation for a school in Ouray, Colorado modeled on the Oregon Extension.  We would open the school and spend the rest of our lives cracking the windows for young, suffocating Christians. I was literally bouncing with excitement when I answered her call.  She sounded subdued, but I had a notion she was simply tired, I figured I’d pop by to cheer her up then roll on.  But she, and a train, and a dump truck, and a judge’s gavel all met me five feet inside the door; 30 seconds later the bounce abandoned me as I looked away from that damning plus-sign and surveyed the wreckage of my dreams.  The vague notion, and the buzzing fear , blended together in roaring certainty:  “I guess we’d better get married, then”, I heard myself say faintly, launching the first of many impulsive, enormous, sideways jumps onto rocky and untried paths.  My crushed spirit knew what awaited: syrupy condolences, congratulations and prayers covering iron-clad ex-communication from “righteous” fellowship, my mother’s tears, morning sickness, hasty plans for a bitter-sweet ceremony, the frantic search for housing, the snickers and whispers from un-stained classmates, the relentless responsibility of parenthood, the grind of survival, and the endurance of a life-time of shame.

What I didn’t know was the clutch of tiny fingers, the giggle of a little throat, the generosity of my parents arranging for us living those first numb months in their home, the later joy of throwing rocks in the ocean with a bright, happy boy who thought I hung the moon, the smiling gurgles of his baby brother and a second set of clutching fingers, the pride of watching the older one graduate high school magna cum laude, get his first car to drive to his first job while the younger one is renowned for his generosity, joie de vivre, and affability.  I couldn’t have known that the struggle for survival would lead me to Coast Guard Medic training and teaching life-support courses, which would lead me to nursing, which would lead me to an award for best nurse in the nation, which would lead me to directing the simulation lab program for a multi-national organization. 

I knew what that damp, red plus-sign meant – my destruction.  What I knew turned out to be true, and it was all horrible, but I didn’t know it would only jolt me sideways, bringing my life scattered, brilliant diamonds of joy - destroying my juvenile dreams, not me.   In the end, I knew nothing of what awaited me - a surprise gift from a wise, patient, loving Creator.