Originally written August 15, 2006

     First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who helped me celebrate my birthday, from phone calls to dinners to bundt cakes to emails, it was a great one and I love you all. Thus begins my twenty-ninth year…and I guess the most exciting thing about that is that I’m not thirty yet. 
Which reminds me…here’s what I thought my life would look like by now: married, settled in the Southeast somewhere, with kids and an awesome dog/house/car. Here’s what it looks like instead: single, living in New York City (arguably the most UN-Southern place in the country), no kids, paying ungodly amounts in rent every month for a nearly negligible amount of square footage, and my primary mode of transportation being these ghastly feet that are about to receive a much-needed pedicure (thanks, Mom). If there can be an opposite to what I thought my life would be at this point, I’m pretty much living it. And as I see it, there are two ways for a God-fearing person to respond to that:
1) resentment. (Ha ha, joke’s on me, God. Any other tricks you have up your sleeve for turning my plans upside down?)
2) reflection. (So what exactly IS your point here anyway, You being the all-powerful and all-knowing Creator and such?)
Thankfully for the purposes of this blog and my own (hopeful) growth as a person, I’ll go with option 2. 
I’m now living in that place that is somewhere between what I thought life was going to be and what it really is. And if “Jesus Loves Me” like the song says, then that has got to be more than a cosmic joke, right? 
A little current events-based exposition: yesterday began the agreed-upon cease fire between Hezbollah and Israel. For now, the media is reporting that said cease-fire is holding (despite some small skirmishes and the possible 10 Katyusha rockets fired last night…). So the world breathes a collective sigh of relief as peace reigns in Lebanon….right? Everyone got what they wanted…right? Kofi Annan can sleep at night with visions of world peace resting like laurels upon his head, decriers of violence everywhere can claim the victory of diplomacy over war, and we can all take a breather from the world’s longest and most enduring struggle. Peace reigns. But does it really?
How well are the citizens of Lebanon and Israel sleeping tonight? Do we really believe this is over–that a resolution will end in one day the hatred and violence that have characterized a section of the world thorughout history? Bombs have been quieted for now. But is this really what peace looks like?
Don’t get me wrong–just as much as anyone else, I would love for this to work. I would love for the violence to be over. I don’t want to see that death and destruction any more than you do. But the enactment of a UN resolution doesn’t mean that these issues are resolved. As long as there is hatred in men’s hearts and devotion to the extermination of a race of people, this will not be truly over. This pause in fighting is just that–a pause. The simple fact is, it’s not that simple. That is not what true peace looks like. It is not the absence of fighting coupled with the presence of a nicely worded agreement. It is not just the silencing of bombs that are still present and ready for firing. All of that is the appearance of peace–it’s not the real thing.
The things I wanted to have in my life by now–marriage, kids, home–they were all symbols of something deeper that my heart, and all our hearts, yearn for because we were made for it. Something that is conveyed by words like identity, security, relationship, and love. But my thinking that those symbols would achieve a lasting security and peace, would cement my identity and guarantee unconditional love–that thinking was misguided. It’s just not that simple. And as long as I live in wavering acceptance of a better plan, all the while keeping my own plan ready at the sidelines for enactment by my own forcing, I will never know true peace–only the appearance of it. 
My life doesn’t look like what I thought it would look like–thank God. If it did, I would have sold out real peace for a pretty picture of it. What I have now may not look or seem peaceful most of the time. I’m not exactly financially secure, for example. Savings account? Nonexistent. And I’m not entirely comfortable with that. But the point here is not my comfort–it’s His plan. And while a retirement plan would be great to have sitting there like a pillow for me to rest my head on at night, it’s not the plan that is going to buy me a good night’s sleep, and it’s not the plan that is going to make me who I’m meant to be. There’s only one plan that offers me that, and it’s a plan that is beyond my understanding and control, just like the peace it offers. It’s called peace that passes understanding for a reason. Maybe part of the reason is because it looks nothing like what I thought it would–but it’s more real every day than I could have imagined.