You got it wrong, God. It wasn't supposed to go this way.
You messed up, Lord. I'm not the weak one. I'm the one who ministers to the weak ones. Don't You know that?
Why did you mis-cast me in this minor role? I'm meant to be the lead! Get with the plan, God!
I'd like to think You've got this, God, but did You notice I'm too weak to go to church? I know that can't be right. What gives?
Hate to mention it, Lord, but my hair is falling out and I'm quite sure that wasn't part of the plan. If You could fix it pronto I'd appreciate it.
Umm, God? I missed another event at my kids' school because I couldn't leave my house. Do we have a timeline here? Because I'm not gonna lie, I think we got a little off-track.
Kinda silly, right? Yet isn't it how we think?
We have it in our heads that He is not Who He said He is, that He is not capable of taking care of us. We might say otherwise, but inside we're quite sure He got this particular circumstance wrong.
We say we're ready to go "anywhere with Jesus," but only if the path is well-lit, free of debris and no more than a 4% grade.
We may think we're onboard with the plan, and we are... OUR plan. Not His.
Because there's no way this can be the divine plan, right? This pot-hole-riddled, trash-strewn uphill path that runs through the wrong side of town?
Where's the park benches? The planter boxes? The bunny rabbits? The sunshine?
What do you mean, "this IS the plan?" This painful valley, this debilitating weakness, this grim diagnosis? Oh no, You got it wrong, God!
God had a divine plan for the Children of Israel in Exodus 33, and He communicated that to the man He had chosen to lead them. They were to head out into the wilderness and quit hanging around the area where they had been enslaved so long. THAT was a bad neighborhood!
He gave the instructions, and at the very end, remembering that we are all just scared little kids inside, He spoke a promise. He said, "My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest."
Then Moses said to Him, "If Your presence does not go with us, do not lead us up from here..."
I love this passage. Moses is like, "I know You juuussst said that, Lord, but let's go over the plans one more time. You're with me, right? There's no chance I'm taking one step and there's a drop-off, correct? You and me, proceeding, in a forwardly manner. Right?"
I'm obviously not the only one here with "anxiety issues." Moses is afraid to leave his tent! And he was speaking to God Himself, as close to face-to-face as it's possible to be to the Father. Come to think of it, Moses is either very, very brave, or very, very dumb. Questioning what God is telling him? Step back and wait for lightning to strike! Who does that? Not me!
Good thing our loving Father "knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust" (Psalm 103:14). That's why He reassured Moses even before he doubted, and then reassured him again when once wasn't enough. He knows our human fears and frailties, our inability to grow our faith bigger than a mustard seed. He also knows the stupid things we're going to say before we say them.
So He knows I'm going to freak out and try to grab the steering wheel away when we come up on this big curve. And He knows my dirty secret. I don't really trust Him a tenth as much as I say I do.
He loves me anyway. You know how I know that? Because God, Who cannot lie, told me He loved me so much that He gave His only child, Jesus, to die for my sins (John 3:16). So that the penalty would be paid forever and no one could ever take me away again.
I sit now in the palm of His hand and no power on earth, no illness, no wickedness, not even death itself, can pluck me out (John 10:28).
My position with God is as His beloved, precious daughter, for whom He would never plan anything but the best. There's no way on earth He doesn't have a plan, or that He got part of it wrong, or messed up the agenda in any of the other zillion moments I'd rather not endure.
Of course He has a plan. And it cannot be improved upon.
I'm the one who's got it all wrong.
Forgive me, Father! The dust speck exalts its wisdom above that of the Creator of the Universe. How gracious You are to allay my fears and reassure me over and over again that I am loved, worthy, accepted and redeemed. Snatched from the jaws of death and held in Your palm as a precious treasure You paid the ultimate price to obtain, You have a plan for my life that exceeds anything I could ask or think. I declare Your praise before the whole earth. You alone are God. Amen.