I came across this sign on my walk this morning. And I took it as a Sign. As in from above.
I am not sure what the intent of the person who wrote “Gods (sic) Plan” was, but I have my own interpretation. To me, this sign says that what feels like a detour to us is really what God had in mind all along.
This is exactly the gentle reminder I needed right this moment, as my life feels like one enormous detour. If you’ve been reading along, you know what’s happening, but if not, let me quickly get you up to speed.
Basically, my life is changing in numerous and dramatic ways. We just sold a house I adored and never wanted to leave, and are temporarily living in an apartment. My only child just graduated from high school and is heading to college. We are about to move across the country, and I will leave behind my entire family, my health care providers, and a network of friends, many of whom I’ve known since high school. I have lived here my entire life. Walking away from my whole history feels impossible. Wrong, even.
Literally, the ground is shifting beneath me.
As I absorb these shifts, I feel somewhat destroyed by them. I am so distraught about moving that I feel physically ill most of the time. If I hadn’t gotten chronic lyme disease, and was still the vibrant, healthy person I was 9 years ago, maybe I would feel differently. But the last 9 years happened, and they have left me physically and emotionally diminished. And very adverse to change.
But our daughter decided to go to college in Virginia, which is where my husband is from. It’s a new adventure for our daughter, and my husband is thrilled to be going home. He deserves it, after moving here. While that leaves me outnumbered, I will follow my family anywhere.
So, I’m moving.
Every fiber in my being is telling me to stay. I’m thinking about a scene in the movie The Bridges of Madison County. Meryl Streep is in a car with her husband who she no longer loves. They are at a stoplight, and her lover pulls up behind them. She quietly grasps the door handle, and for a moment you think she’s going to jump out and run for her life. And her happiness. Or both. But in the end she lets go of the handle.
Let’s be clear. I love my husband, so there is no parallel there. But I would like to pull the door handle on this move. Really and truly. I want to run for my life. And for my happiness.
But if I run away, I’d be running away from my family, and I will never do that. Never.
And if I run away, I’d be running away from God’s plan for me, and that seems like a bad idea.
However, I can’t see the plan now. When I look at my life, all I see are detours I’d rather not take. But I need to remind myself that with God there are no detours. Just a plan that is known only to Him, and will be revealed to me in due time.
That’s where faith comes in.
I have faith. I really do. But I would like to know what’s in the damn plan. And the plan most definitely has not been revealed to me yet. How will moving ultimately be better for me than staying? How will my life be changed? What lessons will I learn? What things will I see and do that I would never have seen or done?
I don’t have any answers yet. Just questions, fear, sadness, and a heavy heart.
My faith tells me to just hang on. To trust. To believe. And importantly, I need to continually remind myself of the notion that this is all part of a plan instead of a detour.
At this moment, as so much change swirls around me, there isn’t much I know for sure. But this one thing I know: I didn’t run into that detour sign by accident.