Someone once told me that nothing ever happens like you plan for it to. I should’ve listened. It would have saved me so much heartache. I had so many notions and dreams of my own – all these plans for what and when, and how and who. And o the strife and confusion that happened in this little heart of mine. There were moments when I fought when I should’ve rested, and moments I drew back when I should’ve fought. In hindsight, I really didn’t know any better though. I had always just done what I thought was best at the time.
But that is what happens when you strive after selfish little dreams that aren’t His.
Because He holds me to my vows of being completely His and not my own, everytime I start to build castles that aren’t His, He steps in to fight me. Mostly gently, but sometimes with much fierceness (how great and terrifying those moments, I can never forget).
But this is the path I have chosen – His will and His story, above mine, now and forever. I am not saying that there are not woeful nights when sighings overtake my heart and I wistfully yearn for the things that could have been had I chosen another path. There are. So many of them. Even so, I no longer wish to strive for petty dreams, even the big ones, because every dream that isn’t His is ultimately rendered petty, no matter how good and fulfilling they seem to appear at first to the undiscerning human spirit.
And such is the life I will live. The one of always choosing His will, His dream, and His story above my own. No matter how painful. No matter what it costs me. And it has cost me a lot, yes even now, even in my tender youth.
“Occasionally, weep deeply over the life you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Then wash your face. Trust God. And embrace the life you have.” // Piper
Surprisingly enough though, there is a fulfillment that comes with giving yourself over to a cause higher than yourself. It is deeper than anything I’ve ever known. When you die to yourself so that you can say yes to God, the strangest peace will overcome you.
And perhaps there is a place where His dreams and my own can meet. Perhaps there will still be an unraveling of a life so much more beautiful than what I could have ever planned for on my own.
Is He not a good Father after all? He is. I know His heart.
So I say yes to all His ways.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
– Robert Frost // The Road Not Taken.