Plans and open hands.

Awhile ago, Jesse and I decided that we needed a five-year plan.

We spent the first five years of our life together in blissful daydreams while pursuing education that we hoped would launch us towards achieving "world-changers" status. That season was awesome. We were super poor, living paycheck to paycheck in the great city of Chicago, riding our bicycles everywhere. We both went to school full-time and worked full-time. It was exhilarating in the way that running in place is. We had a lot of ideas of who we wanted to be, where we wanted to go, and what we wanted to do, and the busyness of that season was exhausting in an endorphin-releasing-good-way. But the reality was that we were grounded by sitting in hours of lectures, followed by hours of writing papers and preparing presentations, squished by hours of working retail and service jobs.

We longed for the next season. Where we could fly into the future and transform our surroundings.

And then we graduated. We did it! We were ready to fly!

But wings did not come attached to our graduation gown.

We floundered. We searched for different opportunities. We reached for our dreams. And doors were repeatedly closed on our eager faces. We felt stuck. We were discouraged. We had no plan. We realized we only had dreams. Those dreams made us feel like we were grasping at the wind. And the wind blew us across the country to the other side of the mountains.

The need for a plan was born in the same moment that our first born child took his first breath. Becoming parents profoundly impacted us with the necessity of becoming people who not only dream big dreams but who also commit to doing hard things in order for those dreams to emerge out of the embryonic stage of idealism. Viable dreams grow and change the person who bears them. Only after they change the person who conceived them can they be birthed and change the environment around them. 

So we stopped grasping for wind and sat down to make a five year plan. We wanted to see our dreams  come to life. In order for that to happen, we needed to face our dreams in their most basic form and develop some action steps. 

When we sat down together to write out our glorious plan to become dream achievers, there was so much that we could not have anticipated.  We only heard the happy buzz at the coffee shop where our pens scribbled on separate papers and articulated the essential elements of our individual dreams. Followed by the delightful rush of caffeine fully incorporated in our bloodstream while we combined our dreams into a five year timeline of shared dream making. At that time we were oblivious to the possibility of future struggle.

In that moment it felt as if we had found the key to success and happiness. The powerful combination of dreams and plans.  And the blur of voices around us seemed to confirm that all you need to do is have a plan and then do it. From great vacations, to having children, to excelling in a career - all you need is a plan. Well, buckle your seatbelt,  hold on tight, here we go! Or so we thought.

It didn't take long before the manifesto we had developed began to crumble and crack. In all of our eagerness to plan and take control of our lives - we had failed to leave space for negotiations with the sun, the rain, the wind --and the Maker of it all.  

This second year in our five year plan has been full of bumps and bruises and face-plants. Things aren't going according to plan. Little did we know that the essence of pursuing dreams is recognizing how little power we have. To hold all plans in open hands. To let go of perfection. To receive dreams as the precious gifts that they are.

We didn't plan on funerals, miscarriage, grief, and sorrow. We didn't plan on setbacks, delays, and changes. We didn't plan on uncertainty, discouragement, and upheaval. Within, around, and day to day - life is unpredictable. Even with a plan.

This visual is worth a thousand words:

So here we are. We're learning how to let go. And how to keep moving.

We've moved from spinning in circles and grasping at the wind to holding our hands in open surrender to the wind while taking one laborious and intentional step at a time. Trusting that there will continue to be enough grace for each day regardless of the circumstances.

Plans are good and essential. Without them we certainly won't go anywhere. We want plans because we want to go somewhere. But the plans aren't the destination. Plans serve only one purpose and that is movement. 

Dreams give us hope, and plans give us courage to keep walking. And joy is the bizarre gift that springs up whenever we stop to acknowledge the grace that has brought us safe thus far.

One step at a time.