Let’s just say that I had a plan, it was an awesome plan. Meet a nice guy, date him, marry him and be fruitful. This was all supposed to have been before my 25th birthday.
As 33 fast approaches I keep going back over my plan and the steps I took.
How did my plan fail? What did I do wrong? Where did I mess up? I have a good job, I’m a good person. I used to ‘drank’, but I wouldn’t have called myself an alcoholic. I partied, but what twenty year old didn’t? Why didn’t my plan work? What did I do wrong? Where did I mess up? Maybe I hadn’t met the right guy yet, maybe I scared him off, maybe I needed to give it more time.
The closer I get to 33 the more I dissect and re-evaluate my plan. Over and over again the questions haunt me.
Then it dawned on me. I never not once, not ever consulted God about my plan. I never took it to him. I never even considered what plans he had for me. How did I know if he planned for me to be married with children by age 25? What if he has something much better for me? What could be better than my plan you ask? I have no clue. I “thought” my plan was flawless, but I “know” his plan is flawless. He created me for a purpose and I have to trust that he knows best, because he does. This isn’t where I thought I would be at 32 years and 11 months old, but I am happy. I can honestly say that this is better than what I had planned.