plans

The other night I settled into the couch with an unsettled heart and a bowl of kiwi. I had this sense of panic over the idea of how our lives would be once I’m working long hours again in the fall and how everything would get done and on top of it all how little time I’d have to spend with the person who matters most to me in this world.

Sometimes the idea of the life we share together being so short is overwhelming.

The realization that we’ll spend ten-ish + hours of each day working, a few extra hours keeping our house from falling apart, then maybe the last three actually living together. I hate the way thinking about all that makes me feel - which is why I don’t think about it often, much less talk about it. But last night was different, in that I let my thoughts rest on it all a little longer than usual and it led to creation of something crazy: The mother of all lists. This detailed schedule of our lives with every minute planned out.. right down to every meal and grocery list, a workout plan, a house work scheduler... the WORKS! I do not lie. And it was... IN-sane.

I actually didn’t think it was insane at first. I though it was genius. That’s why I proudly showed my master schedule to husband who promptly told me exactly what he thought about it. Which was both mildly offensive and true. Mostly true.

It took me a good hour or so to grasp the truth part, which is what was at the heart of all my panicked planning, and it’s simple. Its fear. I’m not saying that all planning is a bad thing. I love to plan. In fact, most of the time I just do it for fun. I make plans just to break um! But the kind of planning I did the other night was different. It’s not the kind that's born out of wanting to be wise with my time, though that was part of it. I wanted to have control over my time. I wanted the plan to rule my life into a sane, predictable routine. And that is was husband knew. And that is what made the plan crazy. And that’s why I love that man.

My initial reaction to any rule rarely leaves me teeming with positive emotions. In fact, it’s usually more like eye-rolling and is-this-really-necessary kind of self-speech going on in my head. That’s why I always wondered why anyone would make up more rules for themselves like the Israelites and Pharisees. Why would you add on? God gave them ten simple rules. So they created thousands to go along with those. Then Jesus came along and said (in Whitney paraphrase version) “You can’t keep your thousands of rules... in fact, you couldn’t even keep the original ten because you missed the heart of it. You’re just making things complicated and proving that you can’t do it on your own... Which was actually the point of all those rules in the first place--to help you see how much you need me. So I’m here to make it simple: Love me and love people. And, by the way, you can’t do either of those on your own so don’t even try.” And that is when it made sense.

People deep down really love rules and plans and clean lines because they’re a lot easier to follow than Jesus.

And that is where I messed things up. Don’t get me wrong. My master plan would have rocked your socks off, and it would have ruled my life, but I only made that plan to avoid panic. I plan instead of panicking. You can call it planicking. Actually, please don’t. What I’m saying is, my plans can’t become the rules that live by - they can’t be my god. But when a plan is born out of fear about the future, that’s exactly what it has become. Sometimes the wisest thing may be to come home from work at my predictably late hour and start laundry and make dinner "according to plan"... and sometimes it may be much more important to not so much as pick a pair of dirty socks up off the floor and instead spend the entire evening sharing a bottle of something good with husband, just talking and listening.

And those moments when I choose the holy spirit over my plan are ones I’ve never regretted for a moment.

Last night I spent some time staring out the window, watching this baby cat (which has recently made a habit of stopping by in the evenings). He was perched on our fence, studying the fireflies in our garden... And I thought about what Jesus said...

Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they don’t plant and harvest, then store it away in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they are? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?  Your father knows what you need, so seek him and don’t worry about tomorrow. 


But this is how he said it to my heart last night...


Don’t worry about trying to plan out every detail of your life, meal-plans, and workouts, and shopping lists... A meaningful life is not dependent on those things - it’s so much more! Look at those fireflies out there in your garden. They don’t have lists and plans that rule their lives and I take care of them.. I even made them with this wicked awesome fluid in their abdomen that glows because I care that much about the details. And I created you with even more detail than fireflies. So put a stop to worried planning/rule making. I know what you need. Don’t waste your life planning things you have no control over to begin with. Cling to me and focus on what I’m doing and I’ll take care of the rest.


... and that’s exactly what I plan to do.