Tuesday, 11 February 2014
For an extreme 'planner' like me, the next few weeks are completely terrifying. Two weeks in India with our boys (all of whom have never been on a plane before) when I struggle to even take them to Worcester City centre feels a little bit stupid. When there is a lovely, well-thought out plan and a list of what I will need, I feel safe. Perhaps I am more like my father than I thought!
Attempting to pack for every single eventuality yesterday, I realised it was futile. How can I even write a list of all we will need when I don't know exactly what we'll be doing?
Suddenly the ground underneath felt wobbly. My safety in planning was being rocked. I couldn't be in control and the unknown future loomed up, mocking my attempts to take charge. I felt tripped up. Normally I can write a list and grab hold of myself. But there was no 'normally'. This was outside of 'normal'. Scurrying from the chemist to the charity shop to poundland and back to the chemist again, I desperately tried to regain control. But it was useless. The unknown was just too big.
LIke the shock of a nerf-gun bullet in the face (I don't care what the advertising says, they DO hurt), I suddenly realised what I was doing. My safety had been in the planning when it should have been in the trusting.
I am scared. I feel like I am tentatively tiptoeing through a dark cave, not knowing what I will step into next or where the end will be. That's the truth of my feelings. But God's truth tells me He has already walked ahead of me and it's ok. Wherever my feet tread, it's ok. He already knows the unknown. It doesn't mock him - He's in charge of it.
And so I try to breathe out again. I stop writing one thousand lists per day (and night). And I rest. And I trust.
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
Will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of The Lord 'He is my refuge and my fortress',
My God in whom I trust.