• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar

The Blue House Blog

believer | creating a home of peace, health, abundance and beauty | laughing a lot

  • Home
  • About
    • About
    • Truth
    • Contact Me
  • Recipes
    • Trim Healthy Mama
    • Nourishing Traditions
  • My Home
    • Remodeling
    • Before and After
  • The Fine Print
    • Disclosure
    • Privacy
    • Media
  • Shop

Letting Go of Plan C.

Melissa Beene Ford/ Uncategorized

It’s 4-something in the morning as I’m sitting down to write this. That’s my normal time these days to be out of bed, sitting in my living room, talking to God and reading my Bible.

Not that I wouldn’t LOVE to be in my bed right now, but like everything else lately, nothing is going according to my own plans, especially not my plan to get a decent night’s sleep like a normal, healthy person.

There’s lots of anxiety in these wee hours lately. I wake up with my heart beating out of my chest, barely able to breathe, and definitely unable to sleep. It’s not insomnia, really; this is something different. It’s free-falling, out into nothing.

And that’s not my choice. I never liked free-falling. Never wanted to free-fall like Don Draper in the opening of Mad Men. But here I am, every morning, waking up in a free-fall, unable to sleep, unable to breathe, trying desperately to make some sense of this and finding my only peace and strength here in my living room in God’s Word.

If the adult years of my life were written out in a timeline, it would look an awful lot like this:

  • 1996 – graduate from college; embark upon Plan A.
  • 1998 – Can’t have Plan A; let’s go with Plan B. Plan B will be fine.
  • 1999 – Plan B is terribly disappointing. Resign myself to coping with Plan B the best I can.
  • 2000 – 2010 – chaos, pain, disaster, turmoil as Plan B spirals down the drain.
  • 2011 – OK. Let’s try Plan C. Plan C will be amazing.
  • 2012 – 2015 – torment, misery, futility, because I was never meant to be a Plan C girl.
  • 2016 – Plan C crumbles around my ankles in spite of my best efforts.

And none of it is what I would have predicted, planned, or chosen.

This is not what my life is supposed to look like.

I am not supposed to be here.

And finally, after months and months of free-falling out into nothing, and wrestling with God about it, and crying, and reminding God of ALL THE THINGS I TRIED, AND ALL THAT I WANTED AND PRAYED AND PLANNED FOR AND TRIED MY BEST TO CAREFULLY BUILD, and begging God for a different outcome, I think I understand.

Maybe, a little.

All this time, I’ve tried to grasp for control of a life I never had control of.

All this time, I’ve been driving along in the car that is my life, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel as I try with all the strength in my arms to steer this car in the direction it’s supposed to be going, and it’s not turning. I throw myself into it, and there’s no power steering fluid in this car… it. won’t. turn. Ugh.

Today, I woke up and realized… I was never actually driving the car.

I just looked around me, and this steering wheel I’m grasping… isn’t attached to anything. This really pretty car I designed for myself, in my imagination… isn’t even a real car. 

It’s like the big fake truck at the playground made out of pipes and boards, that Susie loves to pretend to drive. She spins the steering wheel wildly, not really realizing that she’s not really making that thing go in any direction. It doesn’t matter how tightly she grips the wheel, or how fast she spins it… she’s hardly the master of where the road takes her in that fake truck.

I just had this conversation with God in my head:

Me: God, this isn’t what I wanted. I did everything that I knew to do to NOT BE HERE, and here we are.

God: I know. But you’re not the one in charge of this.

Me: But I AM in charge of it, and I ruined it. I failed at Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C.

God: Those were never my plans for you.

Me: But my kids, God. This isn’t what’s best for my kids. All the experts agree.

God: Don’t you think I know what’s best for your kids?

Me: OK, then. I’m ready for Plan D, and here’s how YOU, God, can help me with that…

God: You’re not really the one who gets to write The Plan, in case you hadn’t figured that out yet.

Me: Oh, but yes I am, because I’m the one holding the steering wheel…

God: That’s not even a real steering wheel.

I’m so fortunate to be surrounded by amazing, Godly people. My cousin Wendy is one of my favorites, and because she knows all too well what it’s like to have her plans for her life tossed out the window by a big God who had a better plan, God put her in my life right at the perfect moment to coach me through this.

Wendy is Clayton‘s mama. She knows.

“You didn’t choose this,” she said. “You aren’t the one who lied, committed adultery, shattered your kids’ whole world. You would not have done that.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I answered.

“So… don’t you think God has some purpose in this for you? AND FOR YOUR KIDS?”

She went on to tell me how when Clayton got sick, she had to be honest with him. Her mama heart wanted to shield him from it, to protect him from the pain and the fear of the unknown, but she believed that God had a purpose for their lives. She knew God would use all the parts of the story, even the excruciatingly painful ones, to write an amazing story, one in which God is glorified and HIS Kingdom multiplies.

Wendy had to give Clayton to God, to trust that He knew what He was doing with Clayton’s life.

As much as I don’t want this to be my story, and I want to shield my own kids from the painful parts, God is using every bit of this to mold me, and them, into a story in which He will be glorified.

So, even after all the sleepless nights, the hours I’ve spent searching for answers, praying, begging God for a different outcome, and grasping for a Plan, I don’t know much, but these few truths:

  • God is the Author.
  • God is using every bit of the situation we’re in, this situation that we did not choose for ourselves, to write an amazing story.
  • He’s going to use even the painful parts that LOOK like complete disaster, to make my kids and me into people who look a lot more like Jesus.
  • All I have to be is me. I don’t have to try to plan, or mold my own life into what I think it should look like. I was never the author of this to begin with. I just have to use what God has given me, and be the person God designed me to be.

There’s a lot of peace in knowing that, if I’ll just let myself believe it.

It’s all Yours, God. All this mess. I can’t fix it. Please just use it… 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recent Posts

  • Ask
  • Two Natural Ways to Cope with Grief
  • Covers Over
  • God vs Earthly Parents
  • For they are ever with me

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Vickie Johnson says

    October 16, 2016 at 12:54 pm

    So sorry for your pain & disappointment. Thank you for sharing the messiness of life. Hold fast to this truth ‘Jim Denison shared
    C. S. Lewis was right: None of us are immune from the hard parts of life. But when the storms come, God walks to us on the very waters that so frighten us. His word promises us: “The Lord sits enthroned over the flood; the Lord is enthroned as King forever. The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace” (Psalm 29:10-11). Let’s claim his peace together, today.
    Praying for you and your precious girls.

    Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Primary Sidebar

Let’s Connect!

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter

About Me


Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

Be sure to subscribe to emails so you don't miss a post!

Search for Something

ARCHIVES

I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in an 80-year-old house completely worth it … what broken pipes, icy hardwood floors and drafty windows? 🤔 I forgot already. #comeonspring #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Happy Saturday ☀️ Happy Saturday ☀️
Salt Lake City is always magical ✨ Salt Lake City is always magical ✨
2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍ Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍♀️
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Seems every year there’s less and less bandwidth for all these things. There’s more grief and stress, less money. More demands, less grace. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
It’s the goal, though. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I’m working on both.
Instagram post 18046618504353300 Instagram post 18046618504353300
Load More... Follow on Instagram

Copyright © 2023 · Ella Theme by Code + Coconut