My niece, Melissa, texted me about the way God spoke to her on the way to worship one rainy Sunday when her church had big outdoor plans for worship. She inwardly sighed and told God she wasn’t going to stress, and she knew it would be okay because He was in control. They’d just go with Plan B. “It was then I realized my Plan B was God’s Plan A all along.”
PLAN A???
That struck me as profound. How often do we conjure up our Plan A and then expect God to bless it? We are doing His will, right? So surely He will nod and approve of the way we’ve fashioned it. The hours we’ve spent on things going just so. Oh please, don’t let anything go wrong…
“We’ve got this, God. We can do it. You’ve equipped us. Reach down, bless it and make it all go according to plan…our plan.”
Uh, huh. Human nature strikes again.
Judas had “A Plan”. Yet Jesus didn’t fit into it the way he wanted. No militant Messiah to defeat Rome.
Abram had “A Plan”. Take a servant as a concubine and produce the son God promised him.
Jonah had “A Plan”. Run as far in the other direction of where God wanted him to go.
Even the Apostle Paul had “A Plan” but admitted the Holy Spirit intervened and prevented him and his companions from traveling to that city after all.
Every once in a while God shakes up the plan I have carefully plotted in my head n order to remind me that I vowed in my prayer time to let Him be in control. Oh, yeah. I did, didn’t I? Right, Lord. Got it.
courtesy of Michael Shake Dreamstime Stock Photo
He flips my apple cart with all the fruit neatly stacked in rows. I gasp as I watch them tumble. With a whimper I clench my teeth. Why did You let this happen, Lord? I see chaos with apples rolling willy-nilly, and He sees the path He wants me to follow.
As I pick up each one, it slowly becomes clear. I turn to look back at the cart and see the distance I traveled was purposeful. He shows me Plan B. What seems impossible happens. The apples line up in His pattern, not mine. Each apple gathered in my skirt is a blessing. The ones on the ground were best left alone.
My frustration, over all the ways my feeble Plan A went wrong, evaporates and I smile. Like my niece, my Plan B was His Plan A…the right one all along.
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It happens every year. I can’t get through Holy Week without crying. My mourning clutches my chest.
Lately, I have read a lot about nutrients, or actually the lack of them in our modern American diets. Chemicals, preservatives and soil depletion play havoc with our digestive track, leaving it sluggish and prone to store fat. We need probiotics to supplement our diet and boost the little nutrients we are digesting. Otherwise nasty bacteria build up that actually makes us crave carbs and sugars, leave us bloated and produce irregularity. The problem seems to be that these bad bacteria gobble up the good bacteria God placed in our bodies to help breakdown the foods for proper absorption. And these bad bacteria trick us into thinking we are not full and persuade us to eat even more unhealthily.
