The Not-Yet Present

(Via Senexx)

   What do you do when your plans fall through?

   First things first, you can revel in the internal rhyme of the above question. Or, depending on your inclination, you can cringe at it. Now that's out of the way, though, what's next?

   A little over a week ago, I faced a severe disappointment when I learned that it would not be fiscally possible for me simultaneously to avoid debt and to attend The King's College in New York City. I still love TKC, and I fully support the institution's mission. That night, however, the sudden blow gave me clarity instead of sleep. Though I had to work at 5 AM the next day, it was a good trade.

    By closing that financial door, God allowed the fog of cultural demands and personal idolatry to part for a moment. The rejection stung, but over the next few days God continued to show me amazing things: truths which I previously had known but not accepted. Incredibly, divinely, the Lord chose that night to give me a growing peace and optimism. 

   I love to plan. I would love to spend every spare moment writing up step-by-step programs for achieving my goals. I suppose it's one of the places where the wide-eyed dreamer and the stubborn pragmatist in me meet. So far, though, those plans have not been successful. In fact, this latest failure was simply the most recent in a long string of defeated ambitions.

   Thus, I was again left with the following question: When we've planned and strategized, we've tried to follow wisdom and counsel, and we've done our best, how do we deal with failure?

   I've tried to face rejection many times before in my own strength, and have ended up in bitter despondency for months on end. What the Lord did this time, though, was miraculous. In the midst of the derailment of my future, He began to make me content, more hopeful about life than ever before, and confident for the very first time. He reminded me that all of life is an adventure. Gently, He reminded me that when we walk hand-in-hand with Him, there is no circumstance that we ought to fear and no excuse for self-piteous, self-absorbed apathy to the blessings and beauty all around us. 

   The Lord has closed many doors for me, and no doubt He has done the same for you. Yet He has also provided for us. He has planted every flower that we so admire during these burgeoning days of spring. He has written the hymn that every songbird sings as it builds its vernal nest. For many of us, He has given us families, freedom from oppression, and the chance to learn new things about the world each day. In this moment, the ever-slipping yet ever-renewing present, He has given me loved-ones, books, birdsong, and a sunnily verdant day of rest. Most importantly, He has led us to Himself and His word, wherein He tells us of His greatest provision of all: the sacrifice of His only Son, Jesus, Who is now risen and pleading on our behalf, actively bringing us back into unity with God. By His grace and by the tender, life-giving ministrations of the Spirit, I trust that the same beautiful, majestic Deity who provides for my present will also provide for my not-yet present. 

   So how do we deal with failure? Surprisingly enough, we don't. We can't, at least not with any success. Only God can bring us through failure. It's such a simple thought, yet so incomprehensible until the Spirit makes it real for us. In the end, however, whether confronted with failure or success, we face it all with our hands in the hand of God, trusting that He will continue in His sovereign goodness and boldly awaiting the glorious adventure to come.