Having hope in the unknown

But maybe I don’t know. And maybe, that’s ok. — John Bellion

Plans. I have always hated them. Things that people make to try and have a little control over their lives. Why do I hate them? Having a plan means being somewhat committed to something.

My entire life, I have sworn that I would never be a planner. I am a spontaneous, in the moment, type of person. I like to make last minute decisions, but why am I so insistent on this unorganized life?

For a long time, I told myself that I didn’t want to plan my future because I wanted to do God’s will, and my plan might not be God’s will for me, so I better not even try to make one. I had convinced myself that knowing nothing about my future was better than knowing something, and then that something falling apart last minute. My problem, though, is that wasn’t actualy the root of my belief.

The root of my idea about plans was FEAR.

Plans are commitments. Commitment means giving time and effort to something because you think it will be worth it. It means that you are believing in your own discernment that what you are investing your heart into something, not sure of what the outcome will be.

Time and time again, my commitments have hurt me. I have commited to friendships in which my friends have cared about me a lot less than I cared about them. I have commited to closer friendships with guys who have turned thier back on me because I wouldn’t give them what they wanted. I have committed to churches that have hurt me instead of help me grow. I have committed to God in certain areas of my life and have fallen short every time.

Most recently I had committed to going to Charlotte to do a volunteer program with A21, and that also fell through.

So over all, I am really bad at choosing what to commit to.

I am an ENFP. I am the dreamer of unrealistic dreams, and the creator of high expectations. I do a really self-distructive thing where I create these unattainable expectations, and disappoint myself, over and over again.

And in all of this internal disapointment, I have had one thought: No one wants to commit thier time and effort to be with ME. No one thinks I am worth it.

Or so I thought.

There is One that wants to be by my side when I go through troubles. There is One who wants me to pour all of my troubles and hear out my heart. There is One who gave everything to save me from my self-distructive ways. Who put in more love and care into my being than I could ever hope to return.

Jesus.

Last week I was sitting on a bridge, with a river of hurt flowing down my cheeks. I sat staring at the blurry sky, wondering why no one cares about me as much as I care about them; trying to figure out why the one thing I held on to as a future plan fell through. Jesus, You showed up.

As I was trying to feel comfort in the endless stars in the sky, a shooting star crossed my view. Not just any shooting star, I could see its tail of fire as it crossed half of the sky. Yes, you may think this was a coincidence. I don’t. I believe that God used that piece of space junk in the sky, falling to its demise, to show me: He was with me. He is with me.

It gave me hope. Hope of what, I’m not sure. But it gave me hope.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Now I’m sitting in my favorite local coffee shop, with so much uncertanty. Will I stay in Johnson City and work at barbs till the day I die? Will I ever go and follow my dreams to be the modern day William Wilberforce? Will my feelings lead me to another commitment that will hurt me? Will I even post this blog? I don’t know.

So here is to having hope in the unknown, joy in uncertainty, and courage in insecurities.

Hannah Elizabeth