When We Let God Write Our Story.

"Everyone ends up somewhere. But very few people end up somewhere on purpose."

Interesting thought.

I'm pretty intentional about my days. I always have a plan. I know what I want to accomplish for school, what housework needs to get done, and (at least a foggy idea) of what's going to be on the dinner menu. I have my plan the night before for what time I'm going to get up in the morning, what I'm going to do while the house is still quiet, and what will be accomplished during those two blessed hours of silence during the afternoon rest time. All week long, we make plans for our family day, and we look forward to the weekend with eager anticipation.

In the winter, I look forward to spring with new chicks and planting my garden. In the spring, I'm excited for my crops and for summer vacation. During the summer, I wait for the pumpkins and my bittersweet, and all of the canning that comes with my garden's bounty. And in the fall, we countdown to Christmas.

We look forward to the day when our student loans will be paid off from going back to school in our thirty's, we help our boys grow in grace and truth, and we strive to "work enthusiastically for the Lord, for we know that nothing that we do for Him is in vain."

But anything beyond that, gets a little hazy for me.
It's all kind of fuzzy and a bit of a blur.

* * * * * * * *

I'm good at planning my days, my weeks, and even looking ahead to my next season of life - but I have no idea what the next year has in store for my family...or quite frankly, what the Lord has in store for us.

I DO know that there have been very few years during the twelve of our marriage that I would label as "mundane" or monontonous. In twelve years, we have lived in six different homes - seven if you count a little cabin that housed us for two months when we first moved back from Philly.

And I also know that I see a recurring pattern in my life and in my own walk with Jesus...a battle of sorts, as to who gets to write the story of my life.

I remember at year five when we brought our brand new baby home from the hospital to our first home and Kev was about year 3 or 4 into being full-time youth pastor at our church and I was happily teaching at our local Christian school. I very vividly remember thinking: "This is it! This is exactly how I pictured our life to be. And it's perfect. This is where we will raise our kids. This is the house where we will grow old in ---- this is our life. Til death do us part. The end. Amen."

Happy. Safe. Simple. Secure. Structured. and Predictable.
Six of my most favorite words in the whole wide world.
In my mind, our life was neatly tied up in a perfectly pretty, dependable, root-digging bow.

And then, in about year six of our marriage, God - and my husband, gently asked me to slide over and maybe let Jesus take the steering wheel and allow Him to write our family's story on this side of Heaven.

And it was then and there, in all of the years of my walking with Jesus, that my faith journey really began. That was my defining moment of where the rubber met the road for me in my truly allowing Him to have control.

We sold our home in three days, took our youth group on one final mission's trip to Africa, and two days later moved our little family to Philly for a three year stint of school. Country bumpkin goes city, with a baby...the ONLY family with a baby at our freshman orientation. What in the freakin' world were we doing?

But...
God proved faithful. He humbled me. He grew me. And He blessed exceedingly and abundantly above and beyond all I could have ever asked for or imagined.
Then, we decided to go round two for kids. Kaden had been a textbook child, I just knew that I had the corner on the market on all things parenting, and I knew exactly what our lives would look like in bringing #2 home - whom I was convinced to my very core was a little girl, by the way. I was so convinced, in fact, that on the way to the hospital, in between contractions, we solidified her name, not even discussing any boy name options. Needless to say, Jesse was nameless at birth, AND he was an absolute freak fest the entire first year of his life, literally, almost sending me over the edge. I almost had a nervous breakdown.

But...
God proved faithful. He humbled me. He grew me. And He blessed exceedingly and abundantly above and beyond all I could have ever asked for or imagined.

Jesse is the joy of our home, and he is the happiest kid I've ever met in my life.


And thus, the pattern has continued in these twelve years...

I have the plan. I know the plan. After all, I made the plan.
It's simple. It's safe. And there is absolutely no need for it to be tampered with.

And every single time I settle in and start to dig my roots a little deeper, God steps in and gently asks me to let Him write my story. Him - not me.

I said I would never live in the city. We moved to Philly for three years.
At one point in our marriage, I said we shouldn't take a certain job. God said it was necessary.
I said I would never raise support. Ever. God has decided otherwise.
I said homeschoolers were weird. The joke's on me.

And, so, at the beginning of this year, 2012, you would think that I would be starting to get the picture, sense the pattern, and relinquish the controls. You would think.

But, I don't think God's necessarily interested in Amy's plans for the good life. I think He's far more concerned about His good plans for my life. God wants me to end up somewhere "on purpose," not just somewhere because it's easy and simple, and because I like the scenery there.

I'm the queen of simplicity. I live for all things small and lovely. I like chickens roaming freely, sweet little gardens, three boys at play, and a home to take care of. I don't mind doing laundry, I quite enjoy cooking, and I really don't mind wiping bottoms. I am the farthest thing from a desperate housewife. I love the simple life. I thrive on it.

But, I'm pretty sure the Lord wants more from me...
He wants to prove faithful. He wants to show that He is able to do exceedingly and abundandly above and beyond...in my deepest place, I know this.

But, sometimes, His best just feels pretty super scary.

But, I also think that it's really only in those times when it's not so easy to trust, and when it's not so easy for the planner to know "the plan," when true trust and faith are really learned. It's when things are scary and when we don't know what the future holds and when all of our neatly wrapped up details come completely unravelled that we hold most tightly to the Author and Finisher of our faith...

That's when our lives get lived on purpose.
Lessons learning.
More to come...