Living with open hands
"Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." — Proverbs 3:5–6
I like plans. I like knowing what comes next. I like believing that if I work hard enough, think carefully enough, or prepare thoroughly enough, life will unfold the way I expect. Isn't that how most of us think? But there's a problem. Life rarely follows our schedules, our plans, our hopes, and often life doesn't even honor our hard work.
Years ago, I boarded a plane for Haiti with reluctance. Going there had been Rick's idea, not mine. I fought it for months. Why would I willingly travel (with my three children!) to a place the world defines by its poverty, political instability, and deficiencies?
Before we went to Haiti that first time, I thought I understood what I would find. I did my research. I read the U.S. State Department's warnings. I looked at photos of tin roof houses and streets littered with mounds of trash. I viewed photos of hungry children. I thought I knew what to expect.
I was wrong.
I thought I was going to Haiti to "do something," to "share the Gospel.” But here's what I discovered. God wasn't waiting for me to bring Him to Haiti. He was already there.
The people I thought I had come to encourage became some of my greatest teachers. They showed me what it means to trust God for daily bread, to worship with joy in uncertainty, and to believe that His promises are enough when tomorrow holds more questions than answers. In short, my Haitian friends taught me patience and perspective.
Years later, another unexpected journey began with the words, "You have a large tumor in your abdomen."
Once again, my carefully made plans gave way to circumstances I could not control. I had done all the "right things" through the years - maintaining a healthy weight, eating nutritious foods, exercising, avoiding drugs, cigarettes, excessive alcohol. And yet my plans to grow old gracefully were suddenly interrupted as I found myself on a different path. How could I possibly have cancer?
But you see, Haiti had been preparing me for this new path for years because the lesson is the same. My plans are not what matter. The Lord orders my steps. He alone knows the future.
The longer I walk with Christ, the more convinced I become that peace is not found in controlling life. Peace is found in surrendering it.
Haiti taught me to hold people and places with open hands. Cancer is teaching me to hold my own future with open hands. Neither lesson has been easy, but both have been gifts.
I've discovered that trust is not the absence of uncertainty. Trust is choosing to believe that God remains faithful even when the questions remain.
Perhaps that's what it has always meant to walk by faith. Walking by faith doesn't mean I have all the answers. Walking by faith means I know the One who does.
One of my favorite photos from that first trip to Haiti.
