Letting Go of the Timeline

I remember thinking 25 was old. By 25 my life would be settled and all of my plans would have taken shape or at least be in process. Then I turned 25. I felt like I might as well have been 15, I felt like I was only just beginning to discover who I was and none of the things I had planned for 25 had actually happened. Then 30 came and I was in almost the same situation. By this time I knew more of who I was and what I wanted but still felt really far off from the timeline.

Let me give you a glimpse of this proposed timeline that I came up with somewhere in my youth and childhood (where like Julie Andrews, I'm sure I did something good). I was going to go to a four year college and major in the sciences in preparation for medical school. After graduation I would head straight to med school and finish my residency by 29. I would marry at 30 and have my first child at 31. Guys, it was a pretty good plan if you ask me. But NONE of that happened.

My plan didn't come to pass not because I'm not smart enough for med school or desirable enough for marriage. I'm not even completely sure of the "whys" but what I've learned is that when I base my life on timelines I find myself swept up in anxiety, regret, and hopelessness. I find that I am always waiting for the next thing instead of finding joy in the moment. And so many of these unplanned and unforeseen moments have brought with them incredible joy and life and hope.

My desires haven't changed much; I still hope for marriage and family and think I'd be an amazing wife and mom (guys, I'm so much fun and love people something fierce), I'm currently preparing for nursing school because I am still fascinated by medicine and love caring for others. Those core desires  really haven't changed much but their expression has followed a very different path than I'd imagined and all my timelines have been left in the dust.

Following Jesus has been a greater adventure than I ever could have dreamed. We can make our plans but ultimately we are seeking his plans and many times they differ from ours. I have had experiences I never could have dreamed for myself. I have been a part of people's lives in ways I couldn't have imagined. I have experienced heartbreaks and disappointments that I would not have put in the plan. Through all the twists and turns one thing I am more certain of is that God has been with me. I am more sure of a loving Creator, Father and Friend than ever and as I continue to let go of the "shoulds" and "what ifs" and cling to Jesus I find more joy and hope than I could have imagined.

My story is incredible and beautiful, messy and painful, purposeful and far different than I had planned. So I keep looking to the one who shaped my heart to shape my future and let go of expectations and timelines. I find myself purposing to take joy in what is instead of what isn't (I admit I suck at this, but some things you just have to keep choosing over and over) and I find rest knowing that God is with me, that his plans are good and that he loves me.
What have you been holding onto? Are there things that you are waiting for that are keeping you from enjoying and flourishing in what already is?

"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven...He has made everything beautiful in its time" Ecclesiastes 3:1,11

Tear Ducts

I cry a lot. It's kind of annoying, even for me, ok, especially for me. I wish I had better control of my tear ducts but that seems to be one thing I really can't conquer. They are just independent and stubborn and relentless.

I don't necessarily cry without reason. Life is painful. And I believe some of us feel it a little more acutely than others. We feel it with others and for others and of course, for ourselves. And never mind the reckless hormones and sleeves with hearts on them.

This year I've been to four funerals. Spent more than a dozen days in three different hospitals with three different people. Had my heart broken in more ways than one. Life can be really painful.

But I've also seen loved ones healed, welcomed new babies into the world, had my heart healed in ways I never thought possible.

All of the above invoke tears. I sometimes wonder if my tear ducts are broken or loose or something? I cry when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I just feel anything at all. And maybe it's awkward sometimes and makes people feel uncomfortable but I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the ability to feel. Along with the intense pain that life often brings, I feel a deep joy that I might not know otherwise.

It can be exhausting and overwhelming, feeling so much. Very few things are meaningless or easy to let go of. It can work in the negative. I can become hardened when I'm hurt. And even though I know I can easily fall into the despair of overwhelming emotions, I also know God can pull me through, can soften my heart and renew my strength.

One of the most treasured attributes of Jesus was compassion. Compassion means "to suffer with". I'd like to think that I have compassionate tear ducts, suffering with others, feeling with them both the joys and the sorrows.

And maybe it's annoying or makes people uncomfortable but I have to believe that some people are grateful because it gives them the freedom to feel as well. To cry for "no reason" or when their hearts are broken or when they've received the best news ever.  It's been said that vulnerability isn't the absence of strength, but a necessary part of it. Loose tear ducts might not be such a bad thing after all...

A piece of the puzzle

Every person, every interaction, conversation...it's a piece of the puzzle. My puzzle, your puzzle, their puzzle. I hate doing puzzles. I stare at them and stare at them and stare at them... None of the pieces seem to fit. Some "almost" fit, those are the worst. You think to yourself "I finally found a match" and place the two pieces together in a moment of triumph only to find that they are just slightly off and you have been defeated once again...by cardboard. Of course it's fancy cardboard so maybe it's not so bad but still, it's basically paper and it's getting the better of you.

So often I find myself saying, "we're just a piece of the puzzle and we may never see the finished product." From our perspective this moment, this interaction, this relationship... just looks like meaningless lines of color on an odd and useless shape.

But if we were the ones who created the puzzle, who drew every detail and cut out the individual pieces and threw them all together in a box anxiously awaiting the day they would be pieced back together to reach their full potential, what satisfaction we would find as the pieces did in fact join in perfect harmony to create the finished product.

When a puzzle is first created it's in one whole piece, but isn't it actually more wonderful after all the broken pieces are painstakingly pieced back together? And painful it is...mending our broken places by attaching them to the broken places of others. Painful, but so beautiful.

From one fancy piece of cardboard to another...thank you for letting me be a part of your puzzle and for being a part of mine.