Loving The Life We Didn’t Plan

10 years ago when we had life all figured out…

My husband and I are emerging from the hardest battle we’ve ever fought. It was an ongoing battle for our marriage in which our opponent looked like a long (four year) conversation about my husband’s career. A career choice may sound like an easy decision for some, but for us, it was ‘our thing.’ Every couple has their ‘thing,’ right? The thing that can turn a romantic date into a WWE match. The thing you awkwardly put on your best fake smile for when a stranger unknowingly brings it up. The thing you beg God to remove your oh-so strong opinion about so you can end the argument. The thing you just can’t give up in good conscience.

Maybe your ‘thing’ is which type of schooling is right for your child or your strategy to conceive babies or maybe it’s where you’ll go to church. It’s an ongoing battle in which you both feel so strongly... about opposite solutions. This was us. We sought counsel. We begged God to make the answer clear to us. We did everything right, but we still couldn’t agree. Both of us were fighting to live the life we assumed we’d be living.

I wish I could say one of us nobly sacrificed our desires. But in reality, both of our desires were smashed into a million pieces when I was diagnosed with cancer last year. We were left questioning how two people find joy when their plans are crushed and they become the “attendees” instead of “planners” in their lives. All of our hopes were demolished when we realized life itself was the only thing worth fighting for. But in those dark, first few days after my diagnosis something holy happened. Joy began to emerge out of the darkness. 

As we walk through a more physically and emotionally painful season than we could’ve dreamed of, we’re discovering that the joy-filled life we (both) were ultimately fighting for still showed up. We’re learning joy looks like learning to live (and daringly love) a life we didn’t plan. It looks like taking baby steps into our new reality- the reality that suddenly appeared when our plans were savagely ripped out of our (already aching) hands. Our joy is found in trusting the life we intricately tried to plan with the one who intricately knitted us together in our mother’s wombs and loves us more than we can even imagine. But although we’ve found joy, grief still exists. Dreams don’t disappear because they didn’t come to fruition; We’re grieving the loss of the life we thought we‘d live.

We’re learning to walk through grief by talking about it openly with others and not being ashamed. It’s healing to share the plans we had that weren’t God’s. The sweetest part of this conversation is that we’re discovering the majority of people we hold this conversation with are also living a life they didn’t plan, especially my mom friends. Maybe it was a job they had to give up because of a pregnancy or a newborn that convinced them to stay home instead of returning to a career that was just about to take off or the work from home opportunity they wanted to succeed at that just wasn’t feasible with three young kids.

And through these stories, I’m learning it’s ok to live in what I call the “in between”- in between gratitude and grief. For me, it looks like living with gratitude that the God of the universe has a perfect plan for our lives while also making space for the grief that comes with putting dreams to rest. I’m learning to talk about the in between with God, without becoming bitter or skeptical of him. I’m learning to trust that he hears me and is big enough for all of my questions.

I truly didn’t think I’d see a day in which I was grateful God took our plans and made them his. But the day is here. And I’m more confident knowing he’s in control of our lives. But, the irony is not lost on me here. I am a time management coach. My job is to help women plan their lives and I believe there is passion God has put in each of our hearts we must honor. But, I also believe we must walk so closely with him that when he changes our course or asks us to wait, we still trust him. That when the rug is ripped out from underneath us we still believe he is a good, good Father.

So friends, here’s to releasing our white knuckled plans. Here’s to the freedom found in open conversation and surrender. And here’s to the beauty that comes with living in the “in between.”

P.S. Over the next 24 hours I challenge you to share about the life you thought you’d be living. I have a highlight on my Instagram called ‘Life Unplanned’ that provides a graphic to help you easily share your unplanned life. After you fill it out, tag me in it (and maybe challenge another sister or two). It may be your first time sharing. It may be terrifying. But, it’s a start to help us begin loving our actual lives, not the lives we planned. It may even provide an opportunity to talk with others who are living “in between” as well. Here’s to living our unplanned lives with abandon.