Barefoot and Preggo

Last weekend, the green space on Notre Dame's campus between the library and the football stadium was covered with graduates, friends and family giving hugs, taking pictures and eating their boxed lunch. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I stood beneath a tree, barefoot and pregnant. 

My father-in-law even took a picture of his favorite cliche. 

A dear friend and I discussed last week where we had seen ourselves in the years following our own college graduation: she had seen herself married and pregnant; I had seen myself rising from cub reporter to well-published journalist. Currently, she is working at the prestigious culinary school she graduated from last winter, and I am married, still writing, am sometimes barefoot and always pregnant. 

We concluded, God provides. God ALWAYS provides. Trust in him. Let him have your heart, and sanctify your soul in preparation for the journey. Keep your lamps lit for the Bridegroom and open yourself up to the very possibility that he has something wonderful to offer you. 

It's not always pretty or wrapped up nicely or even properly addressed to you, but the wonder of life comes from recognizing the gift as much as receiving it with pleasure and humility. 

Next month, my husband and I will move to the Deep South for a spell. Midwesties born, bred and educated, I know this next year is going to be a great gift to us if we allow God's grace to penetrate our desires and preconceived notion of "plans". I'm slightly terrified, overjoyed at the opportunity for him, and wondering what kind of story I'm writing in this new life of mine.