Thinking about the road to Emmaus

Just for a little update...

Eden is now moving forward under her own locomotion, which consists of pulling with her arms, and inching with her toes! Although it hardly looks efficient, she can get places unexpectedly quickly.  She is also sitting up and laying down again by herself, and pulling up to knees and standing on anything she can reach.  She's figured out how to open drawers and cupboards, and is especially interested in the drawer underneath the oven. She's also figured out "Peek-a-Boo" and we're treated quite often to her mischievous little grin popping out from behind a towel or table or wall corner.  She also tries to put on any piece of clothing she gets - if its off - and to take it off if its on.  So amazing to see her learn and grow so rapidly!

And,

Mama cut her hair! 

Ha! For many years, I reveled in a glorious waistlength mane. (At least, it felt glorious.  I can't vouch for how glorious it looked all the time!) I truly loved my hair, and felt like it was almost a part of my identity.  In a certain pruning episode on my mission that felt terribly traumatic at the time, but really resulted in some personal growth and blessing, I ended up with a much shorter hairstyle, though it probably was still quite long by most people's standards.  And since I've been back my hair has varied but mostly been about mid-back length.  Well, the other day I just wanted to cut it.  Myself.  So I did. I don't have any pictures yet, but it really turned out quite well, with long layers from just below chin to just below shoulder length.  It made me laugh again to realize that we're not all grown up when we officially become adults - many different parts of us mature over time.  What once seemed impossible or a fixed part of our nature can become possible, changed, and even happily so through the mellowing of time and experience.  :) Pictures will come!

The thoughts about the road to Emmaus came as I listened to Hilary Weeks sing her song by that title.  It helps my mama heart to maintain its peace during busy days and needy kids if I listen to particular music.  This song is included in that playlist.  I was sitting on the landing, the baby finally asleep for her afternoon nap, H. on the guest bed having quiet time with her stuffed animals and some books, and just letting peace wash over me.  The words drifted up the stairs and cast ripples in my mind.  

"We went our way that day 
To a village called Emmaus 
Three days since our Loard had died 
And Judas had betrayed us 
Along the way a stranger came 
And asked to travel with us 
But we couldn't see He was 
The King He was 

So we told Him of our sorrow and confusion 

How we trusted we'd be led 
To a mansion in God's kingdom 
How all our hopes had faded 
When they nailed Him to a cross 
Still we couldn't see He was 
The King He was 

On the road to Emmaus 
As He opened the scriptures to us 
And our hearts burned within us 
On the road to Emmaus 

We heard a familiar voice 
As He quoted from the prophets 
How the Son of God must give His life 
And rise again to save us 
Then as we saw the nail prints in His hands our eyes were opened 
And we could see He was 
The King He was 

Then He was gone 
Vanished from our sight 
But the Spirit made it clear to us 
The Lord was by our side"

The second verse caught my heart, and I could just imagine the disciples, so discouraged, walking along the dusty road, explaining how they had been so sure that this was the Christ.  They had been sure (in my mind's eye) of what the plan was - how it was all supposed to work out!  And then ... it didn't.  Catastrophically, didn't.  It wasn't supposed to be this way!  The almost disbelief that such a strong witness could have been wrong! And yet, Jesus was gone.  Dead.  There was no way it could work out now. 

I have felt like that. 

I knew (or thought I knew) how it was supposed to go. But it just didn't go that way, and my mortal mind was left reeling, confused, baffled by what seems to be the wrong ending.  Its especially so when I have felt so spiritually sure, only to have it all end in disaster, or at least just not go the way I was confident it would.

From our vantage point, we can see the happy ending.  The thing that seemed to shatter their hopes and make impossible that which they had so confidently foreseen was actually the very key to those hopes and that testimony.  They couldn't see, for the time being, how the tragedy and loss were just a step.  A hard step, a step that they didn't foresee, but a step all the same to making what they had been sure of, true.  They hadn't seen wrong.  They just hadn't seen it all.

I can't say that I see how certain heartbreaks and struggles and paths that haven't worked out in my life are key to making the greater plan, the greater good, come to pass, but I wonder how many of them have been just that.  Key to the Father's plan, which is so great that "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man."  Its a strange pair of glasses to wear, but I like it - it gives me hope, and restores my faith.  Its not always that I have seen (or dreamed) wrong.  More likely, I just haven't seen, or dreamed, it all.  The happy ending will be happier even than I had hoped.