One year since we moved to a new state.
One year since our waiting ended and we moved for the fourth time since we were married and the second to last time before we were settled.
Tomorrow, we will have been married for 2 years.
In two months, our puppy will be a year old.
In 70 days, we will be welcoming our first child into the world.
Someday soon, Lord willing, I’ll finally publish the book I have been working on for over three years.
Time comes and goes. There is a time for everything, Ecclesiastes tells us. In this time, there has been mourning and joy, peace and worry, love and fear, loss and blessings. Two years ago, I couldn’t have told you what I thought our lives would look like now. I don’t think this is the painting I would have painted. Perhaps there would have been a job acquired sooner, the debts paid off quicker, a move made smoother (or fewer). Perhaps we would have stayed in the same state, or moved farther across the country. Perhaps our first child would still be coming.
Perhaps a great many things may have happened. I don’t know what would have happened otherwise now that this is our present. I know that my trust was not always strong and my fear and despair often overwhelmed me. Even now, six months into carrying a child, I recognize how small I am, how powerless, how full of fear I have become. I have felt more than alone. I have been isolated from nearly everyone and everything I have ever known.
These last couple of years, with the changes and moves and separations, have brought much worry into my life. We couldn’t help but ask, “What is going to happen next? When is it going to happen? How??”
It seemed like every month was a period of recovery from the month before, confusion at the present, and hope for what might but probably wouldn’t happen next month.
I don’t know a lot of things. Would I change things now? Looking back, would I wish things had happened the way we had planned for them to go? Can I really say that our plan was disregarded entirely?
I don’t know the answers to a lot of these things, and perhaps I never will. Yet in this I have hope and on this my faith rests:
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.
~ Jeremiah 29:11 ~
It’s true: This passage was written to Judah before they went into exile in Babylon. They were afraid, for they we’re going to a place they had never been and perhaps some would not return from. But God promises them this: I will come back for you. Despite their sin, their lack of trust, their fear, their rebellion, God promises to hold onto them. They were His.
Through all of our travels and struggles, fears and concerns, the Lord was always with me as He promised to be. A lot has happened in the last few years, but the Lord holds me in His righteous right hand. My body and my soul rests secure in Him. In Him, I was never alone. He held me in His righteous hand. He has known the paths that brought me here and was never unfaithful. Great is His faithfulness, even when I doubt! Furthermore, He knows the plans He has for me. Yes, we have plans, and we walk in active dependence, but it is God who directs our steps. He is the one who holds our hand when we cry to Him that we are slipping. He is the one that leads us in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. He is the one who cares for us even more than He cares for the littlest sparrows of His creation.
I know what our plans are for us, and I know that God is sovereign. Two years ago, I didn’t know this is where we would be, but I know He is faithful and will continue to be with us and guide us. He holds the plans for our future, and they are to bring us closer to Him. It is on that promise that I rest secure and to His salvation that I cling. I need to rely on all the promises He has made to me. He already covers my sin and has saved me, and He has promised to never leave or forsake me. I don’t know what the future holds other than that Christ is sovereign over all, including my life, and that is a comfort for the future.
Blessings to you and yours,