Doug, Evan, and I went to the Texas State Fair today, and to answer the first question I would ask if someone mentioned they’d gone to the state fair, we tried the following fried foods:

  • Chicken-fried bacon (as amazing as it sounds)
  • Fried grilled cheese sandwich (mediocre)
  • Fried Oreos (delicious)
  • Fried Snickers (delicious)

I wanted to try a fried peanut butter/jelly/banana sandwich, as well as fried butter, but those were both at the stand with the longest line.  We’d also been warned that the fried beer was gross, or we probably would’ve gone for that one as well.

The fair was hot and crowded, lacked the mile of barbecue pits with free samples of which we’d heard the legends (or else we just never found it), and didn’t have nearly as many people in “cowboy costumes” as I’d hoped.  Oh, and apparently there were really buff mounted policemen, but the guys didn’t mention this fact until after we’d left.  All in all, I’m glad I went, because we had to do something quintessentially Texan while we were here (and we might hit up Super Wal-Mart tonight to continue that experience), but I’m proud and happy to report that the Del Mar Fair still rules them all.

Now that that’s all out of the way…  On our way down to the fair, we passed a bulletin board that said in big block letters, “LIFE, UNINTERRUPTED,” and then in the fine print, “Minimally invasive women’s surgeries.”  It was an ad for some hospital or medical center, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether it was referring to hysterectomies (your life will be uninterrupted by this surgery/recovery) or abortions (your life will be uninterrupted by this child).

Looking at my own uninterrupted-by-child life, at least as of today, when I’m on vacation with my friends and my boyfriend, not having to worry about babysitters and breast milk, I’d say I made a pretty wise decision.  Not an easy one, but one whose benefits I am seeing on this particular day.  And, although I’m hesitant to publish this where my Catholic parents and the public can see, I have to admit that I have a lot of respect for women who can make the decision to have abortions if they don’t feel their lives and hearts are ready to accommodate a child.  That takes strength.

I also, though, have a lot of respect for the women whose lives may not be ready for a child, but who make room in their hearts for that child anyway – women like Monica, who confessed to me yesterday that she deleted her facebook account because she’d “rather not know who’s getting married or traveling the world.”  She, along with the other young and single mothers I usually condemn (to protect my own feelings), is showing amazing strength as well, now that her life is different from how she had intended it to be.

Which isn’t to say worse.  Or better.  Monica has a beautiful little girl in exchange for her “white wedding dreams” of yore, and I’m guessing she wouldn’t even consider trading back.  And I had the big white wedding, followed by the quick, shameful divorce, in order that I might learn what real happiness is(n’t).  As far as the pregnancy/miscarriage interruption – because not having a child can be an interruption too – well, obviously I’m still working on it.

Realistically, life is a series of interruptions.  At many times in my life when I’ve been faced with adversity, or found myself in what looked to be a lose-lose situation (like the one I’m in now), people have tried to tell me that “God has a plan.”  And I’ve always hated hearing that.  It makes me angry at God, that his plan should be so painful and less-than-ideal, so full of twists and turns and interruptions.

I prefer instead the picture of God that Monica and I championed while we were in college, which I just remembered and which I think might be helpful for her to remember as well.  It’s not “God has a plan,” but “God has a sense of humor.”  It’s God as puppeteer, up there messing with us, throwing us the occasional curve ball because we’re his main form of entertainment.  And if that’s the case – if we’re God’s TV lineup, and he’s writing the scripts, trying to direct us – stubborn actors that we are, and giving our entertainment ratings…

Well, as much as I’ve hated some of his plot twists, I’d rather be interesting than cancelled.

This entry was posted in friends, miscarriage, perspective, positive thinking. Bookmark the permalink.

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