The Best Laid Plans . . .

by Brian Waple

My family went back to Virginia this past weekend for my dad’s memorial service. We had been planning the service for friends and family for a while, as well as making preparations for a family graveside service. My dad was not a churchgoer, but he had been a long-time member of the local American Legion. So, the family thought this would be a suitable venue for the event. I made several calls and sent a number of emails to make sure the ballroom was available and set up. In addition, I made arrangements to put my dad’s date of death on a pre-existing headstone in the family plot at the local cemetery.

Both services were scheduled for Saturday. We decided to go by the Legion and cemetery on Friday morning to ensure everything was ready. We had no idea what would be waiting for us.

Arriving at the Legion, we found out it was closed for the next seven days because of a positive COVID test on one of the employees. My single point of contact at the Legion could not be reached. When we got to the cemetery, we found that my dad’s date of death had been placed under my mom’s name (she was with us … awkward). Between panicked calls to the headstone company (they were very distraught) and continued calls to my Legion contact (did I tell you he couldn’t be reached?), we were looking at the beginning of a train wreck and had no idea what we were going to do. So, we prayed.

In Genesis 32, we read of Jacob receiving news that his older brother Esau was coming to meet him with an army of 400 men. Remembering that little deception he and his mother had cooked up to steal his brother’s birthright, Jacob was certain Esau was coming to slaughter him and his family (he could see the wheels coming off the rails). Other than reorganizing his family and possessions, he had no clear assurance of how this was going to turn out. So, he prayed:

And Jacob said, “O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac, O Lord who said to me, ‘Return to your country and to your kindred, that I may do you good,’ I am not worthy of the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant, for with only my staff I crossed this Jordan, and now I have become two camps. Please deliver me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I fear him, that he may come and attack me, the mothers with the children. But you said, ‘I will surely do you good, and make your offspring as the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered for multitude.’” (Genesis 32:9–12, ESV)

After spending the night wrestling with God (and being blessed by God), in Genesis 33 Jacob meets Esau: “He himself went on before them, bowing himself to the ground seven times, until he came near to his brother. But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept” (Genesis 33:3–4, ESV). The encounter that had so terrified Jacob (now Israel) had instead become a blessing.

As we were preparing my dad’s service, I spent time in prayer, seeking God’s counsel. I wanted to make sure that what I was doing was honoring to Dad, as well as following God’s leading in the direction He wanted me to go. What was happening now was not making sense. I began to question our plan, thinking, “Is this because we weren’t meeting in a church?” But then, the majority of people coming would not feel comfortable in a church, and I wanted them to feel at ease. I wanted to honor God, but I also wanted to honor my dad. I realize that my situation was much smaller in magnitude than Jacob’s, but I had my own time of wrestling with what I needed to do. Slowly, I began to sense that my Father was telling me, “It’s going to be okay . . . stick with the plan.” And, we did.

So, how was the memorial service? It was a real blessing. We sang songs and told stories and remembered and laughed and cried—my Dad would have loved it! Only one employee who worked in the Legion bar tested positive (the bar, which was the only area closed, is on a separate floor from the ballroom we were meeting in). Out of caution, we called everyone we had invited to let them know the circumstances…a few opted not to come. And the headstone company assured me they would remove the headstone (after the graveside service) and would be able to correct the engraving. I learned (once again) that giving this all to God in prayer was all I could do.

Prayer. It is the foundation of our faith and our hope. When we pray, we enter into genuine relationship with our God and Father who sees all and knows all. We trust that although we can’t always see what’s coming, He can. God loves us. And when it seems like we are at our wit’s end and nothing seems to make sense, we can pray and know that our God hears us.

What do you need to pray for right now?

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