All week I've had plans. I have a list a mile long of things to get for the house or our trip. I needed to get the last things out of our friends' house and I need to unpack, unpack, organize, and unpack some more.

I'm beginning to think my plans are not what I'm supposed to be doing though. As if some divine hand were playing with things and giving me several kicks to the rear, I've been rescheduled all week. We did manage to get our things moved out of our friends' house, but as for everything else? Not so much.

After various interferences earlier this week, today was the day I would finally get busy. I really had it planned. The kids and I would get the shopping done and then head home to clean and unpack.

While I was cooking breakfast, my brother-in-law called. His wife's mom was in a car wreck s few days ago and is going in to surgery today. Could I watch their baby?

So hear I sit, snuggling a sleeping 3 month old trying to close my eyes to the chaos around me and stay here in the sweetness of the moment and pray that the surgery goes well. My schedule is not God's and today, right now, I'm not meant to be shopping or cleaning, I'm supposed to be here with the passel of young'uns running around.