You know that old saying that if you want to make God laugh,
just make some plans? Is that loving laughter I hear coming from heaven?
Directed at me?
Last year, when my youngest was in half-day kindergarten, I
methodically prayed over the school year to come, the one we’re in now. I knew
I was entering a new season of life with no kids at home during the day, and I
didn’t want to be caught off guard, wondering what to do with it. So for days,
I sat with my Bible and my journal, making lists and, yes, making plans. I felt
surrendered and open. I felt like I was in tune with the Holy Spirit, that I
was listening. Maybe I should have been listening for chuckles.
Of the five new priorities I made for the year, two have
panned out. Three went nowhere—two fizzling out beyond my control, and one that,
despite my best efforts, just wasn’t a good fit.
Then there’s the things that weren’t on my list. Russia!
Maybe God could have whispered the words “international travel” in my ear.
Maybe He could have planted the idea of getting a passport so I didn’t have to
pay a rush-delivery fee later. He could have even put Russia on my heart. I sat
in that chair a while; it wasn’t like I didn’t give Him time to speak.
Or what about working in an office again? Just four days
after I returned from Russia, I got a part-time job offer. Didn’t see that
coming. At all. If I would’ve had a hint of that last year, I could have replaced
some of my sweatpants with work clothes. Maybe researched some good crockpot
recipes. Not signed up to be my daughter’s room mom! And certainly I would have
polished up on my writing and editing skills. But working in an office, as much
as I’m enjoying it, was the furthest thing from my mind three months ago.
Proverbs 16:9 says that while we make our own plans, the
Lord is the one who determines our steps. It’s pretty unrealistic to live without
plans, so I don’t think that’s the point of this instruction. What I need to
remember in the midst of my planning is that all my steps—from the small ones
to the refrigerator to the big ones that take me to Russia—are up to God. My
life is completely in His hands, and He determines whether I can even walk at
all. He opens the doors I walk through; He shuts the ones that require me to
stand and wait. Sometimes I’ll walk the exact path I had in mind, and other
times it will be a strange, unfamiliar path. But it’s still His path. And
there’s probably a very good reason why He didn’t tell me about it any sooner
than I needed to know.
James, the brother of Jesus, wasn’t nearly as lyrical as the
psalmist when he wrote about this same idea. In his always-blunt way, he said:
“You don’t even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a
mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes” (James 4:14). So from
one mist to another, I ask you, how tightly are you holding on to your plans?
I don’t think God minds our plans. My son used to wake up in
the morning with plans to start a secret club that day and invite all the
members over for a secret meeting. Nevermind that he was four and didn’t have
friends or that what we were really doing that day was dishes and laundry and a
grocery run. I loved hearing his cheerful little voice telling me what he was
going to do, even while knowing it wasn’t going to pan out for him. Maybe
that’s how God feels about us. Maybe He even delights in hearing our plans, especially at the end when we hold
them up and say, “Or not, Lord. Up to you.”
