Embracing the Unexpected

Yesterday, as I was sitting at Starbucks enjoying some down time and getting some stuff done, my phone rung. On the other end was a voice of panic.

The voices of panic seem to be really attracted to me here lately. I guess it's because I'm wired to jump into other peoples' chaos looking for some kind of spiritual experience. I prayed before I answered the phone, because if I don't it only takes one second for me to take what's being said on the other line the wrong way.

So, I paused, breathed, and answered.

I couldn't understand what was being said, except the part that said I need a ride.

So, I told the person I'd be there in a little bit. In the excited panicky state the person was in, I didn't understand exactly what I was getting into. I just took it as another opportunity to be open to plans other than my own.

It ended up being a good thing, I think.

The voice on the other line had plans to detox a mutual friend. So, I went and picked both of them up and took them to the motel for a three day detox. For comic relief, I picked up another friend who I thought would provide comic relief to the detoxing friend.

In all the craziness, I had a peace about the whole thing. I had a satisfaction in knowing that I was intentionally dropping my to-do list to be open to interruption - the panicky, freakin' out kind.

That's kind of how my days have been going for awhile. I make my plans in the morning, and they get blown out of the water by interruptions.

But, it's the interruptions, or, the distractions, that usually end up placing me in direct confrontation with a God who has plans way bigger than mine.

The author of James once said, "And now I have a word for you who brashly announce, "Today--at the latest, tomorrow--we're off to such and such a city for the year. We're going to start a business and make a lot of money." You don't know the first thing about tomorrow. You're nothing but a wisp of fog, catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing. Instead, make it a habit to say, "If the Master wills it and we're still alive, we'll do this or that."

There's always this tension between our plans and the interruptions to those plans.

How often do we make grandiose declarations to ourselves and others, insisting that we know our own futures, and we've got it all lined out? And how often do those plans change?

I'm not against planning at all. I carry a planner with me everywhere I go, and I make lists more than anybody I know. Planning is just a start, a drive to get me off my feet and headed in a certain direction. But, once the day starts, it's all up in the air. It's given to God. It's surrendered, if I choose to surrender it.

The way we plan and order our lives has everything to do with the heart.

Our plans represent our identity, our ambitions, and what we know. We know that if we stick to the course, then we're doing everything we can to reach our fullest potentials. But then, right in the middle of it all comes the frantic voice on the other line or the coworker who needs to talk.

We wonder, "Really? Aren't there ten other people you could have called?"

And the moment of surrender hinges around two simple words, "Yes," or "No."

For me to say yes means that I'm surrendering whatever my next thing was on the to-do list. To say no means that I'm sticking the course. It's not a matter of right and wrong.

But, I'm at a point in life where I need those interruptions. I need those opportunities to experience God in new ways. I need to be able to die to myself, and think about someone else.

Why did James write this?

He was trying to convey the message to his audience that the things of God are active here and now. They're not a year from now, a week from now, or tomorrow. They're here and now.

So, when we wrap our lives around plans for the future and forget that our feet are touching the ground today, we have the very real possibility of losing out on a God who is for us and with us and working for us today. We have the possibility of only seeing a God who is in the future, and not in the now.

What can we do to experience God now?

Make our plans and then surrender them by saying a quick prayer that goes something like this, "My time is not my own, but Yours. I'm merely a vessel, taking Your love wherever it needs to go today." Then, be ready for the interruptions. Be ready for the tug-o-war inside that wants to pull us in the direction of self.

Today's Action: Write out plans for the day. Surrender them. Embrace the unscheduled events by saying yes.