being a planner

Lord, I am failing to see the blessing in being a planner these days.  It seems more like an obstacle...more of a hurdle...than a gift.  I'm sure there is a time and place where an organized planner like myself could shine- but for now, I just feel toyed with. 

All I want to do, Lord, is figure things out...make decisions on logistics that are not yet my own. 

I want to plan how to add more children to the bedrooms we currently have...figure out where they would all sleep and problem solve on how to get the additional beds.  What about building on to the house?  Will we ever be able to afford that?  If not, what's the best way to make us all fit?  Who will come home to us, Lord?  How many boys?  How many girls?  What will make them smile?  Will they like lasagna any more than our current children?  Will I need to home school for any length of time?  Attend to any specific needs?  What about the kitchen table?  Should I have my dad build the one I think would be perfect or make do with what we have?  What about a vehicle to fit our larger family?  How would we afford that?  Would it even fit in the garage?  Surely we could simply drive two cars everywhere if need be.  Nothing can be a deal breaker...none of this, that is.

But you, Lord...you could be the deal breaker...and frankly after my heavy heart yesterday, I just want you to either rip this band-aid off and send me in another direction or hold me in the palm of your hand and whisper words that enable me to keep waiting. 

I actually imagined what it would be like to dedicate our adopted children to you...just like we did with the others when they were babies...to have our friends around us...praying over us and our children...reading scripture and celebrating our desire to raise them to know and love you.  It brings a tear to my eye once more to envision such a scene.  And a non-planner would not be plagued with such heartache...a non-planner wouldn't get ahead of herself like I do on a daily basis.  A non-planner wouldn't make beds every morning only to be greeted by the longing to make a few more.  I close my eyes and a flood of plans I long to make have to be held at bay...plans I may never get to execute...plans that could be a complete waste of time.

Yet, I can't keep from thinking of them... and what I need to do to prepare for my children to come home.  I beg you to remove this want I have for them if you have no intention of fulfilling it.  The pain of not knowing is growing old and makes me weary.  And I seem to have no control over my planner's heart...it keeps thinking and figuring...it keeps preparing and planning...making room and giving all the overwhelming logistics over to you.  My heart, in-spite of itself, marches forward finding new details to iron out even when the wonder of when weighs heavy.

Surely, you knew the planner in me would feel tormented in the wait...in the wonder...in the worry.  Yet, you still placed me on this road.  And as much as I want off, I will stay if it means eventually being able to bring my children home...if it means, at the end of the road, you have shaped this planner into something new...something better...a someone you need me to be to move forward in the life you hold out.

So, I will do my best not to go mad while trying not to plan...knowing you designed me this way in the first place.  If being a planner isn't a blessing today...I hope that someday soon, such skills will be a commodity I couldn't do without.