When God's Plan for Your Life is Different from Your Plan
This past weekend, I found myself overwhelmed with sadness. The root of my unhappiness was that, despite my best efforts, life didn't seem to be unfolding as I had planned.
In fact, I can say with surety that at the age of 34-years-old my entire life looks nothing like what I imagined it would, and while I've made great strides with regards to releasing my own will and instead, opting to surrender what life had in store for me, still, I found myself lamenting what it felt like God hadn't brought me, namely children, a family, or any semblance of a traditional life.
Sometimes we can pray and wish all we want, and life is still going to happen as God sees fit. There is the illusion of free will, the illusion of choice, and while we are powerful beings, co-creating with non-physical while we are on this earth, still, there is a divine plan, and oftentimes, it's not in accord with ours.
It sucks. Trust me, I know.
We pray for the specifics: healthy, a loving family, a home, a stable career, and maybe a trip once a year somewhere warm, but then life shows up with its myriad of surprises. A cancer diagnosis. A divorce. An unhappy child. No child. A layoff. God has a plan, and it may not be aligned with us. You see, God doesn't care if we break up, or if we lose our savings, or even if we have a miscarriage, because God's plan is so much bigger than our small life, or small worries. What appears like sadness to us is what is necessary for the evolution of our consciousness. There is an interplay of dharma, divine timing, and the forward movement of the collective unconscious. What we lament is small potatoes. Often, what we lament is, actually, what propels our consciousness forward. That illness opens our hearts tenfold. That layoff forces us to become present to the fact that we never liked our job. That breakup makes us look within to see all the blocks to love we carry that need dissolution.
God has a plan, and it may not look like ours. Often, it doesn't resemble it in the slightest.
Life happens - even when we pray, even when we affirm, even when we meditate. Life happens - regardless of how good we are, regardless of how much we do for others, regardless of our intentions.
And when life happens, we are filled with despair, the aching agony of the realization that nothing is within our control (not the important things, at least), and that we must surrender all. What other choice do we have? We must surrender and keep the faith that God is pushing us towards our destiny, and we don't have to understand every event, or every loss, we merely have to show up, white flag raised, hands in the air, and declare our readiness; even with our sore eyes and weary hearts, we must show up every day, and try our best to be a vehicle for love.
What other choice do we have?
Life happens, while we're busy dreaming of white picket fences and trips to Florida, and oftentimes, what life has for us is nothing like what we imagined, and that's okay, because while there is tragedy, there is also beauty. There is that one person you met whom you never could've imagined, There is that time where A led to B, which led to C, and it was the most magical night that you could've never organized, but with the help of divine orchestration, it was like everything just fell into place.
Sometimes God plan for our life is different than our plan. And sometimes it hurts. It stings, and it sucks, and it burns, but what other choice do we have but to cry and then trust and then keep on trusting?
We trust that the earth rotates, and we trust that the sun will rise tomorrow, and we trust that there will be air in our lungs and water to drink. We trust whatever creative energy that is keeping the sky blue and the stars in place knows what it's doing, but we sure as hell don't. We give it all over to God, and we take a breath and let everything else wash away. We cry it all out till we're empty and too tired to fight, because that's when the miracle will happen - when we're emptied of ourselves, and when we're willing to admit that we know nothing about life or happiness or the cosmos, so we just give it all away. We let it all go.