Do I really look like a man with a plan, Harvey?

Sleepless nights such as this one has a certain toll on me that makes me want to write. To put on paper the volumous collection of journal entries I keep safe in my head. There is something ever so intimidating about a blank sheet of paper that my thoughts and feelings have never been accurately recorded as I have wished for them to be.

I once started a journal. It was a dull yellow sort of color, but beautiful to me nonetheless. I finally worked up the willpower to undo the perfection of that first page. The only words I could muster were

What am I waiting for? I’m still standing at the starting line waiting for someone to tell me when to go, where to go, how to go. I’m standing still in the midst of this mediocre life with my mind on everything but today. I’m dreaming of what tomorrow could be–I’m wishing of what yesterday could have been.

Fitting isn’t it. I started that journal in 2004. Those were the only words I ever spilled out onto those pages and for years that was the only day those words were merely recognized or remembered. 4 years of collecting dust in the back of one of my three materialized closets, waiting for me to finish. Waiting. Just like I had been, and was…and am.

I’ve been waiting my entire life. It’s a harsh realization when reality hits you and you discover that you’ve never lived in the present. I’m a planner. A schemer and a dreamer. I have always been. I have also always been fairly independent. However, the more I reevaluate what I want in my own life, the less important having a plan seems to be. I think it first hit me when I was watching The Dark Knight. For those who havn’t seen it–the Joker says it best:

Do I really look like a man with a plan, Harvey? I don’t have a plan. The mob has plans, the cops have plans. You know what I am, Harvey? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do if I caught one. I just do things. I’m a wrench in the gears. I hate plans. Yours, theirs, everyone’s. Maroni has plans. Gordon has plans. Schemers trying to control their worlds. I am not a schemer. I show schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are. …It’s a schemer who put you where you are. You were a schemer. You had plans. Look where it got you. I just did what I do best-I took your plan and turned it on itself. Look what I have done to this city with a few drums of gas and a couple bullets. Nobody panics when the expected people get killed. Nobody panics when things go according to plan, even if the plans are horrifying.

To most, these few lines of Hollywood’s attempt to entertain have resounded in my head for the past week of my life. I’ve been a planner. And I have also been highly disappointed. At some point, though, you just have to give it all up. You have to accept life as it comes. Take each day as the sun rises. At this moment in my life I honestly have no plans or expectations for what is to come. However I do trust that God will use me to his liking because I know that God is the master planner and that God has, indeed, a plan for my life. It’s been a real learning experience, living life has. And the day that Nadal beat my man Roger at Wimbledon is the day I learned that things change, seasons change…and life doesn’t remain the same, or go according to a silly plan for that matter.

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