Providence

God's trying to teach me something.

First, I wanted for Myxl to stay with his current scouts group instead of having to transfer. However, when he crosses over from Cub Scouting to Boy Scouting, meetings will land on Thursdays, which are completely unworkable for us. I knew that if God wanted it to work out, He could. Lo and behold! A friend of mine, a scout leader with a cub Myxl's age, is moving three blocks from my house! Problem solved! Except then, a week before closing, he finds a better house further away and cancels the contract. So Myxl has to transfer troops after all.

In a related story, last week, I made a major genealogical breakthrough (with help from an online friend). The "wall" had been there for over a year, and now that it was down, the chain opened up from 1813 back to 1440! Woo-hoo! Except then, a cousin found out that there was a case of mistaken identity, and the brick wall wasn't down after all. Major disappointment.

These two events, happening within a couple of days of each other, are so similar that it's obvious to me that God is trying to teach me something. Emotionally, I have to tell you, it feels like the Lord is just yankin' my chain. It's like it's hard to trust (which has been an issue with me before), you know?

But at a deeper level, I wonder if God is simply asking me to be attached to Him instead of to my preferences for outcomes. I mean, my tastes are often mistaken: I voted for Clinton the first time and against him the second. I voted for Bush the first time and against him the second. Is there a pattern here? (Gives you pause in my support for Huckabee, eh?) And maybe God is just saying, "Let go. Let Me."

In the end, I don't need for Myxl to be in the same scouting group. The new one will probably do great things I can't predict right now. Similarly, I don't need to know that genealogical line before 1813. Most people can't even name all of their great-grandparents. What I need is God. And He, by pointing out that I can do without most of what I think I need, is sharing an intimacy with me: He wants me to need Him alone. As St. Teresa of Avila wrote, "God alone suffices."

And maybe when I understand that, He'll stop yankin' my chain.