Timing

On my fourteenth birthday,
My Dad prayed for me at
Breakfast, in our family tradition.

“We were surprised by this
Blessing, and apprehensive at first.
But we had no idea how blessed we’d be.”

I’d known my parents were poor.
I’d heard the story of miraculous provision
Surrounding my birth.

After listing all the needed items,
God provided first
A toaster. Extravagant and unneeded,
Not on the list.
And then God provided the rest of the list.

I knew my first cradle was a drawer.

Yet somehow I had never connected that
That poverty also made my conception
A mixed blessing. Grateful for new life,
Overwhelmed with how to provide for that life.

It felt like a sucker-punch.
I was not a wanted child.
I was a burden.

With some surprises of my own now,
I can see that my Dad’s prayer was nothing
Except honest.

God’s timing is not our own.

Might as well get used to it early.