... If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. If you really want to make Him fall over into fits of hysterics, purchase nonrefundable plane tickets.
When my plans to head to Italy went up in smoke and Mt. Bjork covered ash I went through the typical Kübler-Ross model of grieving. I experienced every range of emotion from the first moment I purchased those damnable nonrefundable plane tickets up until the deflated bitter end. Now that the ordeal is over I am relieved to be off that emotional roller coaster of getting my hopes up and then being disappointed. It was exhausting.
But God is having a laugh. He obviously knows something I don't.
What I have gathered thus far from my situation is that I was not meant to go at this time. It would not have been the trip I was meant to take. Or should I say, the trip that God means for me to take.
If I had gone I would have missed the pontifical mass. I think my son was meant to witness that. Sitting up front was less for me and more for The Boy's benefit. I have no way of knowing for sure, but I can suspect, that mass left a lasting impression on him. During that mass he leaned over and whispered to me that he wanted to be a priest. Completely unprompted and beaming a huge grin. I would not have traded that moment for a hundred trips to Italy.
Italy will always be there, those rare moments with my son are fleeting treasures.
So whenever God stops laughing at me and catches His breath, He can go back to whatever it is He is doing with my life. I can tell this trip is shaping up to be a spiritual exercise in trust and patience. Man, I am out of shape.