Last night, the husband and I were up late planning. Today I would accomplish the packing and shoe shopping and other needed errands to get ourselves ready to roll. He would leave work early, and we'd hit the road between 2 and 3 for a little spring break vacation. It would really be the saving grace of spring break since the agenda so far this week has been "mom's sick, so find something to do." Tonight we'd stay in Cortez, Colorado, and tomorrow we'd spend the majority of the day exploring Mesa Verde. Then we'd drive to New Mexico to spend the weekend visiting the husband's brother and bride-to-be. The rest of the husband's family would meet up with us there, and it sounded like just what the doctor ordered. With the long work hours we've been experiencing, the kids and I were thrilled to have time with the husband. Warmer weather sounded enticing, and hanging out playing games and eating good food are always my idea of a good time.
Except I couldn't sleep last night. I did ok for an hour or two until de-Man came in. I ended up in his bed for a couple hours and listened to the muffin have a late night crib party. I shuffled back to my bed and tossed and turned. And the muffin woke up again. I was already awake, so I went to help him find his binky and get back to sleep. As we sat there and rocked I looked at my peaceful baby, but I couldn't feel peace. I began to pray, and I realized why I couldn't sleep. This trip was not meant to be for our family, and I couldn't deny it. I put the muffin back in his bed, returned to my own, and laid there awake. My stomach did flip-flops. I prayed again and received the same answer I had before. I waited for the husband to wake up to share my feelings with him. We talked and he said he'd pray about it on his drive in to work. And then he called with the same answer I'd received.
So now we're staying home. The kids and I are busy making a list to come up with some of our own spring break fun. There have been tears this morning and lessons learned about the importance of following those little feelings. Some call it intuition, while others refer to it as their gut feeling. I believe it to be the Holy Ghost. But however you refer to it, trust that feeling. This morning I feel a little disappointment, but I also feel peace. And I'm looking forward to two things- some home-grown fun for the rest of the break, and a more restful night tonight.
When's the last time you trusted those feelings?