It was a hot, humid 4th of July. I had all sorts of family plans in mind – a walk on the river trail behind our house, a picnic lunch, an evening cookout with relatives, and of course, the annual community fireworks.

As so often happens when we make plans, nothing went the way I envisioned. The kids didn’t want to walk because it was too muggy outside. Neil wasn’t hungry so he didn’t feel like having a picnic. I was missing several key ingredients for the side dish I planned to make for dinner and had to change the menu. Frustrated by my thwarted daytime plans, I determined to make sure the evening went exactly as I intended.

The cookout was a great start. We feasted on barbecue chicken, and the gentle breeze made lingering over dessert on the deck pleasant and relaxing. We sipped our cocktails as the kids ran around playing in the yard. Eventually, though, it was time to leave so we could get an ideal vantage point for the fireworks. “Ok gang, time to get going so we can find a good spot,” I announced.

I hurried to put the dishes in the sink, planning to wash them after we got back, and quickly put the leftovers in the frig. No one else seemed inclined to move from the deck, and I yelled through the screen door to the kids, “Everybody go to the bathroom and then get in the car! We’re going to miss  the fireworks if we don’t hurry.” As I grabbed a few folding chairs, I heard gleeful shrieking over  a strange, loud wind outside. “What on earth is that?” I wondered as I went outside to investigate the commotion.

The shrieking was my daughters yelling, “Yes! Yes!” as loud as their little voices would allow. The kids were jumping up and down, pointing overhead to a hot air balloon hanging over our yard, while the adults stood speechless on the deck. “Is it OK if we land here?” the pilot called down again.

“Of course, it is,” the girls squealed.
“Sure!” Neil shouted after he recovered from his surprise. “But Neil, we have to leave now,” I complained. He gave me a look that said: “Are you kidding? Look what’s happening right here!”
The controlling, cranky version of myself was not very happy about it. Fortunately, the wiser, adventurous version of myself woke up just in time to yell, “That would be awesome!”

One balloon landing in our yard would have been exciting enough, but gradually four of them appeared. We watched in awe as each of the pilots expertly managed the hot air to let the balloons gently descend. Passengers laughed and joked from the safety of the wicker baskets that carried them. Within moments ground crews arrived to help secure the balloons and pull them carefully down to the ground.

While the pilots and passengers waited for the balloons to gradually deflate, they passed around champagne in celebration of their adventure. “None for us?” my giddy daughters asked. “I have something better for you,” one pilot answered.

His crew was still working to deflate his balloon and he abruptly halted them. He lifted my daughters gently into the basket and then, safely tethered to the ground below, took them up and down in the balloon as dusk settled over the surreal scene.

I will never forget that incredible sight.

If I had gotten my way, and the evening had gone as I planned, we would have missed one of the greatest experiences of our lives. I wonder what other things I’ve missed because I was determined to be in control of my own agenda? I wonder how often I miss the gifts God has in mind for me because I am intent on doing things my way?

Dear God, help me to remember that you see the big picture and I don’t. Teach me to be humble and flexible  and open to new ideas. Please don’t let my desire to control my life prevent me from experiencing the surprises You have in store for me.  Amen