The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me. ~ Psalm 16:6 nasb

Saturday, April 15, 2017

New Every Morning -- His Plan, Not Ours

The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23 NASB

Hints of purple on the redbud trees, a splash of promise that spring has arrived.

I almost have to laugh.  Almost.  It's getting tiring, boring even, typing these posts.  Yes, it's a great thing that I can blog about what's going on in our family.  But, you know me--I'm not a drama queen.  I like steady and sweet, making a plan, then enjoying the journey as the plan plays out.  This is apparently not meant to be.

His Plan, Not Ours

Monday, April 10.  After a warm weekend (is it spring, or summer??), I went to work.  Fernando needed the car since we were still trying to fix our BMW, so he drove me in then picked me up that evening.  It was a regular Monday evening at the store, nothing unusual, and we closed up and were out by 8:30, our typical out-the-door time.  Fernando was waiting in the Suburban for me.  He got out, greeted my co-worker, we watched til she got in her car, then we hopped in.  Fernando put the car in drive while I was getting my seat belt on.  He pulled around in a semi-circle, and just after I buckled in, he braked and parked in the middle of the parking lot.  I looked over at him curiously.  He just looked back.

"You're not going to believe this..."

And I knew.

His next words, unexpected, were not a surprise.

N** had let him go.  The reasons were suspect, the circumstances were strange, and the company itself isn't even your typical company.  Nevertheless, life changed.

I don't know why I haven't learned yet to not make plans, those long-term attempts to right my tilting world--if we just do X, then Y, and if Z happens or if we work at this long enough, all will be right again.  But this is not His plan.  Life had been so steady, so in-the-groove, for so long, then four years of upheaval still drives me to think we can get that life back.  But His answer is No.

I've tried to accustom myself to His new reality for me, tried to reason it through, tried to accept it.  My mind thinks in terms of permanency, and I don't want this "new" life to be permanent.  I must trust Him.

My faith is all over the place, stumbling here and there. I've said it before, and I repeat it now: Yet will I trust Him. I must take the next step, trusting in Him. I must move, put one foot in front of the other, even if the ground is unsteady, even if I trip. I must move forward, and trust that He is guiding me. I'm still alive, right? I'm still breathing, right? Not knowing changes nothing, except my cry to Him to help my faith.


Out in my early spring garden, just looking around, I see signs of spring, of life springing up from winter's ground.  The green leaves on last year's sage plants, the garlic already growing tall.


The rhubarb sprouted up almost overnight, promising tart sweetness to cakes, crisps, and jams.  Just as life continues on, and spring arrives as sure as He is Lord, I step once, then twice.  I'm unsure, unsteady, but I will trust.  This is what I blogged about in my last Our Journey post, and I blog about it still.


Spring is here, new life has returned, and I will trust.


Back to life,
Christine

Read previous segments here:

The Beginning
The Injury
The Furnace
The Waiting
Employment
The House
The Phone Call
The Truck
The Car
The Business
Nightfall
The Gift
Eight Days
Broken Path
Celebration

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