All I want and All I need

So. (this is how this brilliant English major and conversationalist begins every single conversation in person or over email). Do you ever have those moments where you look at the path of your life and you say, "Huh. Guess you knew exactly what you were doing God. Sorry about all the whining. Thanks for getting me here with what I need."

I constantly, as do most american consumers, I think, have the urge to say, or even pray "God, if I could just have this..." and you know the rest. Truthfully, I tend towards practical things, like, if we could just have someone give us some portable casserole insulated containers, we could bring meals to people in need. Or a space heater so people could stay with us in the dead of winter when we can't afford to turn our gas heat on. Or some extra money so we could finally finish our kitchen cabinets.
Either that, or my requests tend toward the seemingly impossible. If we could just have enough money to go on vacation for a whole week, and not just to see my parents, but to go someplace tropical, ride a jet-ski, lounge on a beach and then learn to surf. If If I could just get the job I've always wanted, with the best benefits and only 5 miles from my house. If my parents would move down here so that when I have kids, I won't have to pay ludicrous amounts for day care.
One can see that I don't need any of these things I'm asking for. And when I look back at the footsteps that I have sometimes so blindly walked, I see that I got exactly what I needed.

I have a job that is not my dream job, but it has benefits that my husband's will never have, with the ridiculous perks that made it hit the number ten spot on best places to work in PA this year.

I paid an enormous amount of money for my undergrad education, and as a result have strong leadership skills, an easygoing work personality, an endlessly positive attitude towards the impossible and eternal tasks at my day job, superhero time management skills, a tireless work ethic, a hunger to use constructive criticism, and a tenacity and persistence to never let a project lag. Some people's worst boss, I know, but without my almost as much as a mortgage education, I wouldn't have all of those characteristics.

I have a freakin' house, which was one of those diving off a cliff decisions, hoping that I am either more rubbery than Wile E. Coyote and can bounce back up, or I'll fall onto a trampoline. I thought I'd be paying rent until I could pay off my student loans, but I own a four bedroom, amazing kitchen, adorable backyard, front porch with a swing house!

I have somehow inherited the most pleasant, kind, and interesting in-laws on the planet. One of whom lives near me and is an endless support and conversationalist, and another sister and the parents who are unceasingly generous and will always be there for me.

I have a car that I didn't really want (okay, because its not a stick and because its an ugly gold color) which has run strong for two years and 45,000 miles, which hardly ever breaks down and is entirely paid off. And lets face it, for a 2000 pontiac, the insurance is pennies.

And that's just the big stuff. There's the random guy from my short-lived temp job who connected Tim with the job of his dreams. There's the dining room table we bought for 25 dollars that we could transport in Tim's almost as short-lived scion. There's the table saw that let us re-do our entire kitchen and hand-make all of the cabinets that we bought off of craig's list. There's the cards my mom randomly sends with 20 bucks in them, somehow always during the week I'm thinking "How am I going to afford buying food for all the people coming over to my house in three days?" and so on.

It is amazing the intricate patterns God works in our lives. It's probably even more amazing, though in a different way, how often we forget or overlook this fact. He really and truly does never fail us and never leave us.

I always feel bad for those horses hooked up to carraiges in cities with their blinders on. I know its for safety reasons so they don't freak out at movements they see in their peripheral vision in the middle of city traffic, but that's just disconcerting. I can't handle not being able to see everything around me.

So why is it that when I can look around and see all that God's done in my life, sometimes I just look in one teeny direction and see what He hasn't and what I wish He would?

Probably a fault of human nature. But God didn't make mountains that He didn't mean for us to climb. So let get out our walking sticks.