Weekend to Remember

Months ago my husband and I heard about a two night marriage retreat called “Weekend to Remember” in Newport, RI.  We hadn’t been away from the kids even one night in forever, so this weekend became like our holy grail- we had to book it- but who would watch our kids?

It seemed God had an answer for us before we asked; my dad had been asked to officiate the wedding of a family friend here in CT…conveniently just one week before our trip.  My mom would join him and they could stay an extra week to watch our kids!

What’s the appropriate response here? That’s nice.  Woohoo!  HALLELUJAH!  (There it is.)

Plus, we booked the trip in true thrift style- saving half off on the retreat and using credit card points for the hotel.  The whole thing made me feel like God noticed us…that He had plans to bless us and was going before us.  To quote Hannibal from the A-Team…”I love it when a plan comes together.”

Then the plan started, um, shifting.

My parents came up for the wedding as planned and we had a really great time…till they received news that my dear Memaw (my mom’s mother) had taken a bad turn.  Everything changed so fast- they spent some precious hours with us the day they got the news, then headed out in a flurry- 6 days ahead of schedule…3 days shy of our magical grail of a weekend.

“God? Hello?  Is this thing on…??”

At first I cried as much for my mother and Memaw as for my own fading dream, selfish though it sounds.  But then I decided instead of wallowing, I should probably just hit up anybody nearby who had a pulse to see if they were around to watch my kids.

The short story is- a dear friend that I didn’t even ASK found out about the situation and volunteered to stay over the two nights.  And another amazing friend volunteered a good chunk of her Saturday to help as well.  And suddenly the plan was back on, and I looked at God and realized He was adding a blessing to the trip through the very setback I thought would kill our plans.

I’d played the martyr ever since my parents moved, not ever asking someone to watch my kids overnight for us.  I’d chosen pride over community, but when God allowed me a desperate moment, I realized how small my life is when I can’t be vulnerable and needy with my friends.  It’s like refusing a gift someone really wants to give me just because I know how much it costs.

But now I’m getting mushy- so let’s fast forward to the trip.  My husband and I packed up- amazingly lightly of course, when you don’t need diapers and three kinds of sunscreen.  We were a bit giddy, I think.   We arrived, checked into the marriage conference, and enjoyed the peaceful view.

Then we started walking for dinner, passing fun shops along the way.  Brick Alley Pub, our go-to restaurant, was way overbooked- no worries, a little restaurant hunting could be fun.  Nothing could ruin this moment…except, perhaps my insulin pump breaking.

I’ve mentioned before, but for those that don’t know I’m a type-1 diabetic, and rely on an insulin pump every day of my life.  I have backup insulin, but I’ve found with diabetes, anything that throws me off from what I’m used to puts me in panic mode.  So a full-on pump failure?  Yeah, that’s not great.

Again… “Reaaaaally, God?  I thought we were on the same page with this getaway…you know…relaxing…fewer anxieties…??”

The next hour was a blur of trying to make adrenaline work in my favor, a frantic phone call to tech support which merely confirmed my pump was broken, and a trip back to the hotel to pray that my backup would work.  This is not the picture I’d imagined sending home on a postcard from our vaca.

But I had just listened to part of this message by Graham Cooke who said, “There is always revelation in the battle.”  How very true in this case.

I realized in all this wrestling, in all this chaos, was yet again another blessing.  A revelation to see God’s provision where I’d imagined only disaster.  To see whether my faith in God is really dependent on who HE is or on what my circumstances say.  Is He bigger than all that?  When I’ve had to confront my fears over and over again- when I’ve had to look God in the eyes and tell Him I’m disappointed- I’m finding, bit by bit, that He’s chiseling away from me the things that have the power to make me afraid.  He’s showing me how even the things that seem to be disappointments and weakness are all being woven into a greater plan, a bigger purpose- yes even bigger than my holy grail weekend.

I had the “random” instinct to bring my backup pump with me- it was the last thing I packed, actually. I know that God took care of me when I had no idea what was coming.  And beyond that, He’s writing truths into my heart- truths that I’m writing down to one day share with others more fully.

So was my weekend “meant to be”?  I actually think so.  (Except for the part where the Newport Starbucks was closed for renovations.  “Now really, God?  That might be one step too far.”)