Plans vs. Reality

You would think that after being on the earth for almost 23 years I would eventually stop being surprised by the way God works. You would think. But as impressive as the human brain and capacities are, we are incredibly dull beings. Our ability to dream is limitless, but our ability to believe? Minuscule. Even after writing that last sentence, I am struggling to put into words what I mean by it. But I don't want to take it out. It fits.

Kids have no problem believing the things they are told. Like every other child who has ever ridden a bike, I fell off once, embedding pebbles and dirt into my knees and elbows. Since I have such loving older brothers, they told me they would need to amputate to prevent infection. I still get made fun of for cautiously saying, "Fection?! I don't want no fection!!" and the petrified look I wore on my face as my mom cleaned out the wounds. 

Until the idea in our head becomes a reality, it is just a dream, a delusion. No matter how much you believe in it. I could (and did) believe with all my heart that my elaborate plans in high school would come true, but that didn't stop them from crumbling in a matter of seconds.

If you were to ask me in elementary how I thought my life would play out, I would have looked at you blankly and gone off to send Ken and Barbie on their honeymoon. I didn't care. As long as I lived with mommy and daddy and Mittens never ran away. And I could have peanut butter and jelly for lunch. And Cheetos. 

If you were to ask me in high school how I thought my life would play out, I would have told you step by step what was going to happen, whom I would be with, what I would be wearing and the name of our great-grandkids. That plan was engraved in my mind and there were no plausible alternatives. It was the perfect plan so why wouldn't or couldn't it work?

If you were to ask me in college how I thought my life would play out, I would have burst into tears and used your sleeve as a handkerchief. Never had I ever felt so hopeless and disoriented. What was my new plan? Live at home and mooch off the parents? Move out and ruin my life by choosing a variety of mistakes to follow? I was literally trapped inside myself. I had no chance for plans. Even if I dreamed of one day finally breaking free of my self imposed prison, I had too many barriers to cross and those dreams would dissolve without much trouble. Reality is relentless. My plans were to live to see the next day.

If you were to ask me today how I thought my life would play out, I'd smile and say, "The way it's supposed to". I don't have long term plans right now. I'm taking each day as it comes. Meeting people. Trying things. Making mistakes. Enjoying life. I do my best to not put a timeline on myself. What good would that do other than to add unneeded stress? I am too good at stressing myself out the way it is. I'm not going to worry about whether the next person I meet will land me my dream job or if the guy I talk to in line at Starbucks is my future husband. 

If my plans from any other stage in life had worked out like I thought, I would not be blessed to be where I am today. The knowledge that I would have missed out on even one part of this stage in life makes the purgatory I lived in for too long, bearable. People I currently count among my closet friends would be nonexistent. That is enough to make me grateful for the pain that brought them into my life. Though I never could fathom ever saying this, I am glad my plans fell apart. My reality is better than I ever dreamed.