There’s a plan. I know there’s a plan. I would give anything to be able to see it, even parts of it. But I know there’s a plan because I’m promised the plan and the future. It’s why I have hope and joy. I’ve known Jeremiah 29, verse 11 since I was a little girl. It’s a verse my mother has repeated to me countless times through the years. It’s a verse she has diligently prayed over my life since I was a child. I know, absolutely know there’s a plan. But some days I’m weak and I question all of it. I have doubts and fears, and the unknowns take over my consciousness.
It’s easy to lose hope. I take a step back and look at my world as though I’m viewing it through a camera lens. I see broken relationships and failed friendships. I see scars and heartbreaks, wounds and tears. So many tears. But in the midst of the destruction, I still have hope. Hope for things unseen and unknown. My faith falters regularly because the things my heart desires seem so overwhelmingly impossible. When the despairing thoughts begin to invade, I recite parts of Jeremiah 29 in my head. I know most of the chapter by heart, and it’s my security when I feel my heart losing hope.
Funny how life happens. Some days, I feel much older than my face might show. For years, I wish I’d been born in a different generation. Life before the Internet and social media, when life seemed simpler. I pray the plan for my life includes a front porch and a rocking chair, sleeping babies and quiet nights. No matter what the future holds, I am here now. This is my moment, and this is my place in time.
As many times as I’ve read through Jeremiah 29, I missed an intricate part until last week. God reminded his people to be content in the place they were. Even in exile, hundreds of miles from home, he called them to love in that place, in that moment. So I know there’s a plan, a hope and a future. But I also know there’s a now. May I learn how to be faithful in this moment and not look toward the future and what’s to come. May I be here, now.