Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a town and spend a year there, doing business and making money.” Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring.
Yes! What business do we have saying that tomorrow or next week or next year, we will do something in particular. My husband and I have learned this well. At one time, we were going to get jobs overseas with our family. We even tried it, with him taking an assignment in Iraq for six months. Alas, six weeks in, his office was ruined in a car bomb, so he returned home.
There was a time, probably 10 years ago when we thought we were going to try to retire early, buy a small RV, and travel the country. I even went so far as to buy him a beautiful guide book to all of the national parks. We’d even had our first trip planned. Then his parents’ health declined, and they moved across the country to live with us.
Next we thought we were going to sell our big expensive things that tied us down, like house and car, and move into an apartment in downtown Portland. We even did it for about 3 months. Then schizophrenia happened. We moved out of the apartment, bought a house and car and settled down for the long haul in Portland. Then I lost my job and ministry.
So here we sit, across the country in Pittsburgh, with a multi-family home and a car and with our loved one living upstairs. We are even contemplating purchasing another former grand home to renovate and rent for below-market in this lovely, if not tired community.
And yet, I have zero confidence that our ‘plans’ for the future will turn out as we’ve imagined; none of our plans so far have. This letter to Timothy continues, suggesting that instead of us stating our plans, we should open each plan with ‘If the Lord wishes, we will do this or that’. Isn’t that the truth?
I haven’t quite gotten to the place where I hand it over to God’s will. I know it’s true, but it’s so removed and ethereal. What’s been easier for me is to acknowledge the illness in my house. The significant brain disorder we live with is capricious and arbitrary. Nothing is certain in our circumstances because nothing is certain in our loved one’s. It’s easy to realize that our future is not set, looking at our loved one. And yet, behind the illness, behind the job loss, behind the ill parents, God is ultimately in control.
Although the changes haven’t always been easy, each time, we’ve landed well. That, I absolutely ascribe to God.
This morning, I’m thinking about ascribing to God my entire future. Sure, I have thoughts about what’s happening next, but it’s all ultimately up to God. Sometimes it’s easier to be a passenger anyway.
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