Now, I'm not entirely knocking having a plan. I am, however, knocking my old way of approaching life. On the outside, me with open hands; on the inside, tight-fisted hands wrapped around my agenda.
I was afraid. Isn't that why we wage this war of control in the first place?
Even now, I fight not to hang my head in shame when asked what my plans are for using my degree, for getting "out" of my Starbucks job, for pursuing a career in writing. I stammer a little, quietly confessing, "Well, I don't have a plan."
I had one of those wonderfully real lightbulb moments yesterday in the counseling office. Another moment of eyes being peeled back, wider, clearer. A vision adjustment. I won't lie and say as of yesterday I'm magically cured of being a control freak with my life. But I did realize something that has been influenced by this change in my sight, which is changing the way I live.
It's ok not to have a plan.
In fact, it may well be the most freeing, adventurous, faith-filled, open-handed way for me to live the full life. Abandoning my life agenda to live in day-by-day trust, no attachment to a specific end result.
This is my plan for writing: To lay it out in the palms of my hands every day, to put into words what burns in my heart, and then to see where it goes. To not value "success" as having a published work selling thousands of copies more than the one life that may be touched and changed by a blog article. To have nothing to prove, no need to validate my work or pursuits. Simply to write my heart out until I have written all that is needed, and to thank God for wherever it goes.
This is success: faithfulness, surrender, diligence, patience and gratitude. No plan required for these.