I don't know how many times I've heard someone say, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. . ." or something of that ilk. Sure, the people who say that might follow it with a rather genial chuckle to themselves, but at the heart of their statement, there seems to be an undertone of disappointment, or dare I say, anger, frustration, or pain? This age-old saying, while seemingly innocuous, almost implies that not only does God laugh at our plans and our our ability to achieve them, but he might be actively involved in squelching/ruining/derailing any sort of plan man makes. At least, that's what the adage seems to imply, and that's what is has sounded like to me the last 1.2 million times someone has said it to me, lately. As well meaning as the speaker might be, when he or she says this, I shut down. . . I rebel. . . I find myself saying, "No! That most certainly is not true, and how dare you say those trite words to me?!?" I might have been guilty in the past of saying such things, but now I know better. Now I know that a heartfelt "I'm praying for you" followed by fulfilling that promise is the best thing you can do for someone whose plans have been pummeled to bits by the storms of life.
If you know me, at all, then you know I am a plan maker. That's just how circumstances of my life have taught me to live. My desire/need/compulsion to plan can be one of the most endearing things about me, or it can be one of the most frustrating (it just depends who you ask). I make plans and I work my absolute hardest to make them happen. I make plans. Sometimes my plan is to just see what happens, but still, that is a plan. I just have to have a plan. And not just one plan either. I like to have at least a plan b, though often times I have plans c and d waiting in the wings for their chance to shine, should plans a and b fail or become fruitless and/or obsolete.
In the past couple of years, I realized that my need for "back-up" plans could actually be seen as a lack of faith, or proof of neurotic tendencies, or evidence of someone who needs an escape hatch when life gets tough. So, for the sake of being an adult, stepping out on faith, committing to something with my whole heart, I gave up my back-up plans. . . all of them. I gave up on planning for all the contingencies, and found peace when I finally gave up planning for what to do when the other shoe dropped (as it inevitably had for my entire life. . . thus the planning compulsion). It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.
These past couple of years, with the exception of losing my grandmother, have been the absolute happiest of my life, so in that sense, giving up my back-up plans was the best decision I could have made. However, now, without warning or clear reason, I find myself having to scrap the plan I had committed to so wholly. The one time I could really use a plan b or plan c, or heck, even a plan z, I find myself without one. Adrift. Directionless. Lost. I wish I could just buck up, get to my drafting board, and come up with a new plan.
I know that giving up my back-up plans was the right thing to do, but right now, I will admit that I'm kicking myself for not tucking away some little, tiny, scrap of a back-up plan, just-in-case I needed it on a rainy day. But, I didn't. And so -- *gasp* -- I must get along as best I can without a plan (for now). As much as I loathe this particular hand life has dealt me, I know God is in it, too. He is good all the time -- even when I don't understand it, even when I can't see it, even when I'm angry, even when I am heartbroken, even when I don't have a plan anymore and I'm not sure what to do with myself. So, I'm a mess, but I'm a beautiful mess. I don't have a plan; I don't know when I will have a new plan; I don't know when I will ever feel like making plans . . . but I trust that one day, I will.
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