Being Grateful for Unwanted Blessings

We are often counseled to be patient.  To trust the Lord and His timing and to know that promised blessing will come, if not now, then eventually.  What we often don’t hear, I think because of our own willfulness, is that there will be times that the blessings we receive aren’t the blessings we want.  Even harder than waiting, is letting go and remembering that despite all of our planning and wishing and hoping, the Lord quite possibly, probably, definitely knows things we don’t and a little faith may be in order.  Even though I have heard people talk about plans changing and detours in life, it has taken me almost thirty-four years to understand the value of unwanted blessings.

I did not come to Kansas willingly.  I won’t say I came kicking and screaming.  Angry, bitter, hurt, and figuratively under the threat of death would be closer to the truth.  From the day I arrived, I started counting down the days until I could leave.  Not even two full years and I would be heading out to better and brighter things without a glance back.  The plan was simple. Leave for college, preferably in Texas, possibly the military from there, travel and a whole world in front of me.  I will point out that I didn’t have anything against Kansas itself and Manhattan is a nice place.  I just didn’t want to leave where I was before and the support system I had under the circumstances I did.  Kansas just happened to take the brunt of that feeling.  I wanted out and I never wanted to see it again.

By the end of my first year here, my plan started to go sideways.  See, it’s very hard to maintain scholarship level grades in classes you struggle in if you work almost every day.  Algebra 2 and I were not friends.  Despite spending at least 5 days a week together for a whole school year, I’m not sure we were even casual acquaintances.  All these years later, I’m not sure I’d recognize it if we casually passed on the street.  That one class killed my chance of going to where I originally planned for college and made me realize that maybe hard sciences weren’t the best choice for me. 

Senior Year of high school I continued to flirt with upper level math classes.  Sometimes I’m dumb.  I added fighting with a power hungry psychology teacher to the mix and started working more hours.  I slept through a lot of math and some German classes.  Somehow, I managed to receive offers from colleges all over the country, for my writing.  None of the offers would allow me to leave.  The scholarships just weren’t enough. So, K-State it was.  Not my first, second, or fiftieth choice, but a good school.  Just a delay in my plans, I would graduate and get a job out of state.

This pattern would keep repeating.  I would have everything planned.  I would know exactly what I needed to do to leave…and then it would fall apart.  First, there was the birth of my daughter and the divorce from her father, the loss of a job in Colorado, the birth of my son and his dad divorcing me and leaving.  I had two job offers after college.  One was in Idaho and one was in Texas.  By then, my mom had suffered a stroke.  Between that, and other factors, it just didn’t seem right to leave.

Gradually, my attitude began to change.  I never really noticed it, but my heart was softened and Manhattan slowly became home.  It showed itself in simple things: the feeling of relief when the Flint Hills came into view on a drive home, annoyance when people would insult Kansas, falling in love with the sunset over the prairie.  The day came when Manhattan was just, home.  Growing up as an army brat, I never thought of any where as home before.  Constantly moving, leaving places and people behind, it’s hard to get attached to any one place.  And yet, here I was falling in love with the one place I didn’t want to be.

My heart might have been changing, but my mind was still set on leaving. Despite all of my failed attempts to leave, in the back of my mind, the plan was to eventually leave.  For over thirty years, my mind was set on leaving. What changed?  Friendship. An amazing friendship made me rethink everything.  I had thought of living in Manhattan as being stuck, no matter how much I loved it.  This one friendship put everything in perspective.  It was the realization that if I had left, I would never have gotten a second chance to develop this amazing and precious friendship.  Living in Manhattan wasn’t being stuck, it was an unwanted blessing.

And what blessings have come from living here?  First and foremost, I have my two amazing children.  Trust me, even if you don’t know them, they are amazing.  They are worth anything and everything I have and I love them with my whole being.  I may not be married to either one of their fathers anymore, but my children are the greatest blessings. 

Not leaving after I graduated college meant my son was right where he needed to be to receive exactly the help he needed, when he needed it.  Everything and everyone lined up here perfectly.  He had amazing teachers who not only had the correct training, but were willing to learn and try new things.  He hit his teen years just as a new program was started that allowed him to prepare for life and college.

I have found friends that I connected to because I was in position that I had to go looking for them in an unusual place.  Would I have turned to social media for advice if I wasn’t here? Possibly, it’s hard to say.  But, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I have friends I made when I moved here that have been great supports as adults.  It took me a long time to realize that they were as strong, and in some ways stronger, than the support system I left behind.

My staying here has allowed my mom to continue to live independently in a place that she loves and considers her home.  My children have grown up around her and learned many things about their heritage and family traditions.  In return, she has been a great help for me when I was a single parent. 

Has everything been perfect here?  No, not at all. There have been some obstacles that we’ve had to struggle through that might have been avoided if we’d moved.  But we are moving on, moving on, and starting to heal from the worst of it.  The time may come that I do leave Manhattan.  It’s impossible to know exactly what the future holds.  But I know two things, Manhattan will always be my home and I will always be grateful for unwanted blessings, wherever and however they may come.