There’s something about being a part of a Story that is bigger and better than anything I could ever imagine myself.
It’s not easy.
I’ve always been one for adventure in my head. I’ve let books and dreams and stories carry me away to every other place and every other me I could possibly imagine. But now – as I’m halfway up the East Coast and measuring miles in knits and purls and stops for coffee – all I feel is scared.
Chapters have been written for me that I can’t read yet, and nothing stirs and softens my impatient heart more.
I’ve always been one to read ahead. I won’t watch a movie without reading a plot synopsis first. I hate surprises, sad things and – most of all – not being able to prepare my head and oh-so-impatient heart for what comes next.
There is not one area of my life today where I can say ‘it is simple, easy, assured, stress-free. I know what’s coming.’
And yet I serve a God who can shout and whisper and cry out over all creation ‘It is mine. It is good.’
And He can certainly claim the same over my tiny chapters in the Story of creation.
I am kicking and screaming and crying my way to understanding that. I want to read ahead. I want to know what’s next.
And yet the only thing I can hear Him say – and oh, He has shouted and whispered and cried it out to me – is ‘You are mine. I have great plans for you.’