Sunday, August 5, 2012


{March 31, 2011}
It’s only a matter of time. It’s only a matter of time before things start to make sense. How foolish of me to forget. My plans measure up to no one’s standards, not even my own. 
“How overwhelming this can be. Life likes to keep me on my toes. This is good, I suppose. This is good. Because everything is good. Everything, considering, is perfect. I’m realizing it’s the way it’s intended to be. Whether it’s good or bad. Whether it goes according to plan or not because what I’m finding is, really, my plan doesn’t matter at all. In fact it’s full of holes and outrageous plots. Plots so unreachable and unrealistic. Oh, how silly it is to be surprised at that! To think that life is turning to shambles because it’s not happening the way I had envisioned it. You’d think I’d outgrow that. But I hadn’t. I am though. I’m farther along than I think.”
I wrote that years ago and here I am again. The tips of my toes touch that thought again and I throw my head back in laughter and relief. Every time. It’s so ridiculous. I am Peter. The one who knew better, the one who promised and when things grew dim, when times were tried, I fled and scowled at God. Fled and pouted and wrote my own plans. 

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