sometimes God’s plans may hurt a little

When I was a sophomore in college, I sat in the middle row of chairs at the local twenty-something church and listened to a pastor talk about God and all His plans for everyone’s life.  I listened and soaked in every word that man was saying because I needed to believe that God actually had a plan for me and didn’t just forget about me and leave me to navigate the world all on my own.  The man finished speaking and urged his listeners to take a moment of silence and seriously ask God to give them a picture for their lives.  As I sat and prayed halfheartedly, not believing that God would actually give me a picture of my life, I closed my eyes and cleared my mind.

I sat in the chair amongst many other people, praying the same prayer that I was praying, asking the same God to give them a picture for their lives.  What I saw in my mind’s eye that night is not something that I would make up, simply because I just wouldn’t have believed it.  I went home that night feeling even more empty and even more convinced that God had forgotten about me.  That’s all terrible, considering the beautiful image of hope that God had given me while I prayed.

During this image, or vision, the King gave me a promise.

I was standing on the beach, toes digging into the sand as salty water rushed over my feet and up to my ankles, looking out to the horizon where the sun was rising into the day.  The wind was cool and had some power behind it, and I had closed my eyes to soak in the morning rays a bit.  Very distinctly, God said to me “bigger than the ocean is are my plans for you. deeper than the ocean is how great my plans for your life are.”  I had opened my eyes, arms crossed over my chest and hugging my body, staring off and looking at the vastness of the ocean before me.

God’s plans for my life?  Actual plans?  Larger than the ocean?  Deeper than the seas?

I went home that night disbelieving.  Discouraged.  Empty.  I’m not sure why, but I honestly couldn’t wrap my mind around the hugeness of God’s plans for me.

As time went on that sophomore year, and as junior year came around, I really started to take hold and believe that promise.  I took it and chewed on it, mulled it over in my mind.  Some nights it kept me up until dawn, where I would find myself at the beach waiting for the first light to peak above the crests of the waves crashing down.

When I took hold of the promise I believed these big plans had to do with stature.  I turned those “big plans” and “great plans” into “plans to make you big” and “plans to make you great.”  My mind dreamt of a day when I would be used by God so much that men would recognize His achievements through me and see me as great.

What I didn’t realize then and what has taken me all summer to realize is that “big plans” and “great plans” do not equate to “plans to make you great.”  At least, not in the way that I thought it would.

No.  Rather, these “great plans” could really be anything.

Plans that will prosper you.

Plans that will not harm you.

Plans that will give you hope and a future.

 

Plans that may scare you.

Plans that may make you wonder if you’re doing it right.

Plans that will sometimes confuse you.

 

Plans to test you.

Plans to grow you.

Plans to stretch you.

Plans to teach you.

 

Plans to show you My

awesome power

lovingkindness

strength

provision

faithfulness

mercy

patience

sovereignty

omniscience

The plans we have for ourselves will not always match up with the plans God has for us.  The scary part is being willing to step out in faith and continue walking forward.

This last week I was at a camp in Illinois, and one of the team-building activities we did was closing our eyes and having someone lead us around.

First we just had to close our eyes and our partner guided us by walking with their hands on our shoulders.

Then we closed our eyes and our partner couldn’t touch us.

Finally, with our eyes closed, our partners had to lead us without touching and without their voice.

Some of the students found it hard to trust their partner to lead, even with hands on shoulders.

How much more difficult is it to trust God to guide us?  When it’s not just around a field, but through life?  When we can’t feel Him or hear Him?

I’m finding it to be fairly difficult, but by His grace I’m managing.  It’s scary, to follow into the unknown and uncertain.

But it’s peaceful and reassuring to know that God knows, and God is certain.