I was quiet and alone. My stomach churned from nerves and from morning sickness. I was eighteen, unmarried, and had just found out I was pregnant. I was in my first week at Dallas Baptist University--I only ended up staying two weeks--and I had no idea what I was going to do with myself.
I do not remember anything else about that Chapel service except the verse that was read. It was Jeremiah 29:11--
So God pretty much spoke directly to me that morning, and I struggled really hard not to ugly-cry right there in front of everybody.
And I've been trying to figure out what God's plan is for me ever since.
Growing up I figured I had a pretty special future. For a while I thought it was music, then I thought maybe it was writing. I think I've secretly thought, ever since I was a child, that having a great future meant some sort of fame. And at this point in my life, I'm pretty sure I won't ever be famous. It's a bit of a blow to the ego, but I'm reconciling myself to it.
I have a good job, and a start-up business, and a family, and friends. But I still don't know what the Grand Plan is for my life.
I'm increasingly okay with that. I am growing more comfortable with not having a clue what I'm becoming, with, instead, becoming comfortable with who I am right now, even if it's not what I would think of as great or grand. I am learning to stop expecting some sort of Arrival.
And as I was looking at my wall collages at work today--collages which include that verse, "I know the plans I have for you"--I noticed something I've never noticed before.
God doesn't say, "I have plans for you." He says, "I KNOW the plans I have for you." My inference is, "Even if you don't know what's going on, I know what's going on."
And today, more than 15 years later, there's no ugly cry looming under the surface. Just a smile as this mysterious God makes a bit more of himself known, and a deep breath as I give up a little more of my right to know.