Unexpected

I expected that, back home from Nicaragua, I would think longer before buying.

And I do.

I have decided not to replace the glass nail file that broke in two last month. I postponed ordering a new swimsuit, and after two days ordered one for half the price of my first choice.

I expected to appreciate open skies and open spaces.

And I do.

I inhaled deeply,  exhale slowly, as I take in wide ditches, open yards, and a cosmic bowl of sky.

I expected to bundle up more against the Iowa winter.

And I do, swathing my hands in leather, my face in fur.

I expected to study more Spanish, type my journals, begin work on the book.  These, too, I do.

I am also surprised.

I did not expect to start cleaning mildew from the cracks of my shower.

I did not expect to spend 30 minutes on the treadmill each morning.

I did not expect to organize my underwear, soak my combs and brushes, or empty the hutch drawer of its stash of outdated prayer guides and Today devotional booklets.

I do not understand.

Neither did I expect to rebel against my perennial need to understand, organize, analyze, find reasons for. . .

Has God has shifted my tectonic plates?

I know not.

He’s not asking me to control--

But to surrender.