No matter where I go or who I end up talking to, I am always confronted with this question, without fail: What's your plan after your internship ends? Variations of this also include location, time (how many years do you see yourself here/there/anywhere?), and future education plans. My mouth stumbles over this question and I ramble something along the lines of "I'm keeping my options open." While my mouth is busy making up an answer, my brain is deafened by the imaginary "cricket" noise that happens when there is no response to a question.
Am I supposed to have a plan? A five-ten year plan??
If you've followed me on this blog for any length of time, or are a Christian yourself, you know I am the first to admit I don't have this "christian" thing down all the time. I mess up. Repeatedly. The same offense. Over and over. I struggle with fear, doubt, insecurity, anger--the lot. BUT I do think I have one part right. (Pride goes before the fall, right?) Ok, almost right.
I don't make plans.
I'm not supposed to, right? According to that horrible little catch-phrase, my plans make God laugh. I fully agree and am content to NOT be in control of "The Plan." Remember that prophet in the Old Testament who opend the scroll and said, "God--do you see this problem? What are you gonna do about it?" ? Yeah. I'm reading from his play book. I look at my life and say, "Ok God. Let's go. What's next?"
Maybe that's wrong. Maybe I should have dreams and plans. But the thing with human plans is this: they tend to go pear shaped. And I hate dissapointment. And I hate feeling like a failure. And I'm really cool with God knowing the next step. He's the one who created my plan anyway, right?
It's just...well, sometimes I wish I would get a clue as to what is coming next. A hint? A whisper? Cause I'm tired of answering big question with a wishy-washy answer about open options.
And during the daylight hours, I agonize over The Plan, what people think The Plan for my life should be, and what I feel like I SHOULD be doing. But at night? Well, I agnoize at night too. But in the dark and the quiet, when it's just me, I whisper, "help. i'm drowning. please show me the way." And I keep asking until I fall asleep because, really, it's all I can do.