I have a pretty good imagination. It served me well as a child... creating supermarkets in my basement, dry cleaners in my closet and my own little Roxaboxen with my friends (don't worry they were real friends, I wasn't that weird). But my imagination has failed me in my older years.
Perhaps I am crazy but I have a feeling that I am not, well at least not when it comes to this. In this world of Disney, RomComs and happily ever after we are programmed to fantasize about what could be. And if you are like me, you dream up what God is doing in your life…
Ah yes, see I had to get wait-listed at UMD, so that I could go to Ohio State, so that I could meet this guy, fall in love and live happily ever after. FALSE
Ok well then it's that I needed to go there to get sports management experience so that I could land my dream job of working for the NFL, where then I would fall in love with a gorgeous NFL player and live happily ever after… FALSE
Well ok maybe not that BUT I had to go into accounting, so that I could work at this super awesome firm where I would become partner and meet this super awesome guy and well you know how most of my stories end…FALSE
Ok these things aren't working, so therefore I needed to quit my job to find my true calling by working FOR the CPA profession instead of IN the CPA profession (ok so maybe that part has sort of come true)
But these are just a few examples of my imagination leading to my disappointment and in some cases anger with God. Why me? I wrote the perfect story for you God, I made it easy!
As I reread my 2013 lookback and yet again tried to imagine what God was doing in my life I realized I was setting myself up for disappointment yet again. Not because God wasn't following my story but because I wasn't trusting His.
See I couldn't even have imagined 2013 and yet it was one of my best, perfectly authored, not by me the flawed sinner, but by God himself. Because His Thoughts are not my thoughts, and as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are His ways and thoughts higher than mine.
So tonight I, once again, remind myself that not me, not even Nicholas Sparks, could write a better story than the one the King of the Universe is writing for me.