I Feel Safer in the Darkness of God's Uncertainty Than in the Light of Human Logic

About a month ago, I moved out of my parents house into the empty living space (bedroom/bathroom) of Clari and Cowboy's house. Earlier this week, I loaded (almost) the last of my possessions in boxes and brought them to my new space, intending to unpack them today or tomorrow. It's going to be a challenging process to find homes for everything -- I didn't realize I had so many books until I tried to fit them into two boxes and instead needed about 5-6. Let's not even get started on clothes or shoes. Anyway, I was planning to have everything unpacked and organized before Thanksgiving. It was going to be great, and I was going to be so satisfied to have accomplished such a feat.

Today, I'm laying on my bed with ibuprofen in my system and a heat pack under my neck in the midst of my tornado of a living space, unable to clean anything or even hardly move, it seems. Whiplash. The first, and hopefully the last, time I've ever experienced it. I'm a "doer," a "getter-doner," and seeing my room like this without being able to clean it is honestly very difficult. Being an "invalid" without feeling sick is not easy; using PTO for time other than vacation feels kind of sad. 

The experiences and relationships of the last year have been showing me that I am extremely goal-oriented (perhaps to the point of "occasional" controlling tendencies, heh). I work toward the goal, and want to get there as soon as possible -- even if that means forgetting to slow down and enjoy the process. I like order, a plan, and checklists. Sure, spontaneous adventures are fun as long as I don't have to plan them (if that makes sense), but I feel like if there isn't a plan, time may be wasted or an opportunity missed. 

My sister and I were rear-ended on the way home from work yesterday, and while we weren't seriously injured, as alluded to above, I'm feeling quite a bit of pain in my neck and back and can't do much of anything. My dear Lady Suzanna Azura (aka "Miss Suzie") has been totaled -- pending the insurance appraiser determining the fact. On a side-note, I actually am pretty peaceful about losing my car; no one was seriously injured and I have insurance! (update from a week later: turns out Miss Suzie is not totaled after all, although she came awfully close and will be in the shop at least through the New Year.)

So, instead of organizing my living space, I'm stuck with lots of time and no physical ability to  utilize it how I would like. There are many thoughts running through my mind, but the one I want to stick is found in Isaiah 55:8-9, which says "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither  are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." (English Standard)

The past two months have been the most difficult in several years, and I'm trying to surrender everything to my Savior, Whose plans are much better than mine. I fail at this every day, but He is constantly reminding me of my helpless state, physically and spiritually. And so, I'm thankful for being slightly bed-ridden; if it weren't so I probably wouldn't have organized my thoughts enough to write this post.

While this post is kind of scattered, I hope the main idea still comes across: My Plans = Not Always God's Plans; God's Plans = The Best Plans. The struggle is real. So is the Savior, though.

"I feel safer in the darkness of God's uncertainty than in the light of human groundless logic. In this darkness I am standing on a solid foundation of the Word of God which gives me peace . . . I feel safer because I am holding the hand of the One who is not capable of cruelty." Tim Rasulov, Worshipping in Darkness 61 (2019).