When Life Keeps
Its Own Schedule
The Year That
Taught Me about Time, Space, and Grace
We Planned the Beginning. Life Had Other Ideas. We entered 2026 with a plan. Not a wish, not a prayer request—an actual plan. A reunion that made sense on calendars and in family group chats. Everyone moving toward one location. One home. One reassuring proof that family logistics still worked.
The plan failed.
No arguments. No dramatic exits. Just full lives—full
schedules, full routines, full priorities. There was space for comfort, order,
and emotional boundaries. Just not for us.
Instead, I found myself in the city, slowed by a cold and
allergies, resting in what can only be described as a stop-gap house.
Temporary. Borrowed. Unplanned. Not the investment I had imagined starting the
year with.
And yet, this unplanned placement became the classroom.
Sometimes the best “investment” is not the one you planned. It is the one you
are given.
1. The Legacy of the Magnifying Glass
A child lives in this house. Six years old. Upper KG. He is
not a theologian, not a philosopher, and not tasked with explaining life. He
simply observes.
He is fascinated by a magnifying glass that belongs to his
grandmother. In his simple world, she heals bodies and his grandfather tends
souls. His mother did not inherit the degree, but she inherited the instinct.
Care flows naturally here. When medicine was given to me without fuss one
morning, the lesson arrived quietly.
Legacy is not always a profession. It is a way of seeing.
The magnifying glass asks an uncomfortable question: Are you
examining life closely enough to notice mercy, or only enlarging
disappointment?
2. The Chennai Metric: What Is “Enough”?
In 2006, we moved to Chennai for our son’s schooling. We stayed for 17.5 years—long enough to absorb a
statistic that permanently corrects self-pity: more than 50,000 households live
on pavements, apart from the many slums.
If you have
- a
roof over your head (even if it is rented),
- work
that produces income,
- food
on the table,
you are already ahead.
Contentment is not the absence of ambition. Earn more. Live
better. Care well for your parents. Just do not insult your present by
pretending you have nothing while chasing “more.”
3. Rooms, Room, and the Unexpected Guests
We often imagine that hospitality requires spare bedrooms,
perfect furniture, and emotional bandwidth. It does not.
You can have many rooms and still have no room. You can have
very little space and still make people feel received. True wealth is the
ability to let your home become a resting place for someone else—especially
when your own plans are quietly collapsing.
And then, sometimes, a child decides you belong. Not because
of obligation, pedigree, or planning—but simply because there is space and love
has already decided. The younger sibling follows suit. Acceptance arrives
without consultation. No history required. No prior grief examined. No
compensation for loss calculated. Just room. Just welcome.
This is inconvenient. Especially when rejection arrives from
those expected to provide it.
4. The “Go-Getter” Fallacy and the Certainty of Death
Many treat God—or the universe—like a service provider.
Knock. Ask. Expect delivery. Faith is not a transaction; it is trust. When
plans dissolve and expectations fail, remember: The Lord is not obligated to
your blueprint. He provides what you need, not what you ordered.
Four days before the year ended, the lesson arrived from
another direction.
A cousin—more accurately, a brother—passed away at 90.
Senior in age, old enough to have been my father. A leading advocate in his
town for decades. I drove over 325 kilometers to attend his funeral. Well cared
for by his children. No drama. No tragedy. And yet, standing there, a quiet
truth landed: everyone has a time—but only death is certain, never its timing.
We speak confidently about plans, reunions, next years, next
phases. We speak as if time itself has agreed to cooperate. It hasn’t. It never
does.
The year wanted to remind us—before leaving—that conclusions
arrive without consulting calendars. The reunion that didn’t happen. The house
that unexpectedly did. The journey made for a farewell. Different events. Same
teacher.
4. Reception, Grace, and Life’s Lesson
“He came to his own, and his own did not receive him. Yet
to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the
right to become children of God.” — John 1:11–12
We came to the city—the pearl of the Arabian Sea. Familiar
blood. Familiar ties. Familiar expectations. No room.
Elsewhere, however, a door opened. Not because of
obligation. Not because of shared history. Simply because there was space—and
love decided that was enough.
Rejection often grows out of familiarity. Acceptance usually
arrives by grace. Longevity, status, or tradition does not guarantee reception.
Sometimes, only openness and willingness do.
5. The Foundation
As we navigate 2026, these words remain steady:
- On
Priority
“But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” — Matthew 6:33 - On
Persistence
“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” — Matthew 7:7–8 - On
Hospitality
“And whoever gives one of these little ones only a cup of cold water in the name of a disciple, assuredly, I say to you, he shall by no means lose his reward”
