Looking Forward to the Ending of the Story

Last year a representative from the Dallas Museum of Art visited Christian's school and gave a special presentation on something (I'm sorry, I can't remember what it was); at the end of the day, each student received a coupon for free admission for four to the museum. The coupon was good until September 30, 2012.

I've been meaning to take the kids ever since. Today was just about the last day we could go (quite literally), and it was pouring, so it seemed like a good idea to head over to the Arts District and check out the museum. Christian has actually been with one of his classes, but no one else in our family has visited there before.

I told the kids before we left that a museum was a place for walking quietly, and there would be no running, yelling, or messing with one another. For whatever reason, though, today was not a day that they could manage the not messing with one another part. They could not keep their hands to themselves. Whether it was irritated slapping (lightly or not) or hugging and leaning all over each other, there was just too much...activity. When we were in the car in the parking garage, I had to quickly fill out the form that Christian had gotten. The kids had all unstrapped and were antagonizing one another. I told them we needed to go home, and we wouldn't even go inside. They were upset about that, and pleaded to go in. I was upset too...could they not behave for a mere five minutes?

No. No they could not.

We were still in the parking garage, about to cross from a mid-section to where the elevators were, when Michaela reached out and grabbed Christian's arm because it looked like he was headed for the path of an oncoming car. He pushed her hand away and said something like,"Michaela!" in an exasperated tone of voice. I told them that this was their last chance.

Once inside, Christian and Eliana continued to be a tangle of arms and legs and hair. I pulled them apart several times; they weren't fighting, but they were just...hugging and being too silly for our present location. I turned in our form and we started toward the museum exhibits. Twice in the first fifteen minutes, one of the personnel (there were security persons every few feet...not kidding) said something to my kids. Once, Christian and Eliana were doing their crazy hugging spinning thing (that makes it sound like they were mini-Tasmanian Devils...not the case, rather just holding on to one another and turning in circles and giggling). The other time each of them were going under this particular piece that was attached to the wall, but had a sort of figure eight that came out of the center of it, which was also hollow so that you could look up into it and see all the way through. Not that you were supposed to do that, but it was possible. So they tried it.

I had given them extra chances. And so when we went around the corner into another room, and Christian and Michaela had one more exchange, this time an angry one, I told them it was time to go and we left. I wish I had done it sooner. I had meant what I said, but I kept thinking they would chill out.

It's such a bummer when things like that don't work out. Michaela was pretty upset. I would like to take her back, but I don't think they can handle a place like that all together. On the way home, I started to think about what if I had had another baby (I miscarried a little over two years ago) (I can't believe it's been that long), and how would I have managed and so many more thoughts along those lines. I was feeling bad about the fact that I could not take all four kids. I DON'T EVEN HAVE FOUR KIDS! I had to do a quick reality check, and I had to blink back some tears and then remind myself that God's providence is trustworthy.

That seems like a random ending to this story. And I can't really think of a way to tie it all together or wrap it up neatly. Sometimes life isn't like that. It doesn't have a tidy ending. There isn't a resolution that makes sense of everything at the last minute. I'm a firm believer that we don't have to understand it all, and in fact there are things that are beyond our ability to comprehend and that is okay. I'm also a firm believer that our faith is not blind or a wild leap off a cliff into a terrifying free-fall. The steps we take in faith certainly may be scary, but God has shown who he was and is and will be forever. The hand that takes us forward is a sure and mighty hand.

So. What on earth was I talking about? A trip to the museum. And a miscarriage. And God's faithfulness. Life is weird, isn't it? Calvin says that our days here leave us longing for the full revelation of God's generosity (also known as Heaven). And if that isn't true, then I don't know what is.