Wrong turns





The destination I planned!

 So here's where we are.  This is my life and it's not everything I planned. 
Harumph!
I took a few turns here and there that I suspect might have been wrong ones.  Then again, maybe they were right ones but I'm letting my imagination get carried away.
Then again, it doesn't matter.  'cause here I am.
I'm a bit different than I planned on being.  Chubbier for certain.  Less vain, less interested in "stuff," less concerned about immediate gratification. 
I now go out in public sans make-up  For reals.  I rarely apply mascara on my days off.  I think young women are beautiful simply because youth is beautiful but I don't think I need to look like them to feel beautiful.  I think the external beauty of youth is the compensation for the lack of internal beauty that only comes with time and experience.  I used to think that the internal beauty of age was compensation for the external beauty of youth lost with time and experience. 
I look forward to having grandchildren. I am comfortable with the adults my kids are, even when they don't look like the adults I planned on them being.  I think a day spent resting is a day well-spent.  I don't exaggerate the work of keeping house.  I have very little interest in eating out.  I don't suck in my stomach. I see and hear and feel God more easily and my ideas about what heaven will be become more wonderful all the time.
I can only eat half of a Wendy's hamburger now.  And yet, chubby.  Go figure.
I don't get angry as easily as I used to, it passes more quickly and I rarely feel the need to express it. 
I wear tank tops despite my arms looking like the bat signal when I stand in the sun.
I worry about different things; people without air conditioning in the summer time, soldiers in combat, living a life that doesn't point people toward God.  I don't worry about having enough money to retire or what will become of my children or who will be president.
I'm keenly aware of things like my beautiful backyard and my sweet dog.
Things like making meals or hosting family gatherings or baking cookies have turned from burdensome work to joyous satisfaction in being able to.
Other people see empty nests and the chance to take care of their children as history.  I see no end to mothering my sons and with a better income and calmer spirit, I see opportunities to give what I might not have been able to give when they were children.
I was going to be a skinny sexy Joyce Meyer.
I'm an overweight baker of birthday cakes.
Wrong turns or just where I was intended to be?
Still not sure but not worried about it.  When I arrived, God was here.