Dancing with a Plan

If it's Monday night at our house, then it's Dancing with the Stars. As far as my girl is concerned, all life stops with the opening number. Tomorrow night will be no different due to the results show. Since we haven't had anything but antenna television since something like 1994, nobody really complains because quite frankly, nothing else is on.

I was never really a fan of this show because of the sometimes scantily-dressed women and two teenage boys in the house. I've got into it this season for some reason (probably because the channel gets changed right after Andy Griffith). Also, if the dances get a little to, well... let's just say suggestive, I've got a daughter that will turn the tv off until she thinks that number has ended. "Gotta think about the boys, Mom." Yeah, I've trained her well.

Those kids of mine are in seventh heaven tonight anyway. No school tomorrow. Why? I have no idea. Election day, I suppose. Last year was their first year of public school and we're still trying to figure everything out. Some things I like and somethings I don't. God's got a plan, though. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

That plan is what brought us to where we are now. Kind of like public school, some things I like and some things I don't. I like that our oldest boy is excelling in a course that would have never been offered where we were. He's probably the main reason we are staying put. Well, he is the reason. How do you pull a kid from something he is good at? You don't, in our opinion. That's a good thing.

God's got a plan. That's been my theme of the day; the theme of my life. "Many are the plans in a man's mind, but it is the Lord's purpose for him that will stand," Proverbs 19:21. I have given up trying to understand it. I no longer act like I even have a clue how it's all suppose to work out. It's His plan, not mine.

I am momentarily distracted by the "Bust A Move" routine. My girl about falls off the couch laughing when I tell her, "Boy, I'd like to be doing that."  Must be the visual of her mom in split-up-to-thighs pants busting a move across the dance floor. I'm pretty sure God's plan for me doesn't include that.

But wouldn't it be funny if it did? Stranger things have happened. I've got a southern accent that proves that.