The Plan, A Plea, and A Praise: Part 1

This is not part of the plan.

I'm nearing my college (university for all my European friends) graduation. In fact, my wall calendar helpfully pointed out that 41 days from today, I'll be accepting my diploma.

And (can I just be honest here?) things don't look at all like what I thought they would look when I got here.

Not part of the plan.

Somewhere deep inside of me has been screaming that for the last few days weeks months forever. But let's just focus on the last few weeks.

Mayday, mayday! We have left our course. We are not on the plan anymore!

What plan was that exactly?

You know it wasn't one moment. And it wasn't an audible voice. But this past week or two, as I've been watching my graduation day approach and listening to that part of me that is screaming that this was not part of the plan, I've heard the gentle whisper of God too. And He's the one asking, "What plan?"

And quite honestly, that question blew me away. What plan?

Well, uh, um. You know, The Plan?

Because as much as I wanted to think there was a plan, I'm not sure there ever was.

I mean, I guess maybe I thought the plan was that I'd go to school, spend four years studying something, find a guy, graduate, get married, have kids, own a cute little house with a white picket fence ... I don't know.

I do know what the plan WASN'T.

The plan wasn't to study abroad.

The plan wasn't to spend the whole four years in school (I had the credits and I was going to graduate early).

The plan wasn't to be single when I graduated.

And the plan sure wasn't to pursue as master's degree.

Yeah, things went so according to plan.

What plan was that exactly?

I don't know. I don't know.


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