The Beautiful Unknown
On Friday morning I headed off to Mount Hermon with no idea what to expect. All I knew was, for some reason, God wanted me to go and just take everything in. I sensed that this would be more of a spiritual retreat than a week of professional connections. I knew I would meet with my agent, she wanted me to make appointments with three specific editors, and a friend and I were eager to carve out time to talk. In addition to copies of my latest book proposal, I had summaries of my current works-in-progress and ideas, because that’s what a good writer does. But halfway through Allen Arnold’s Major Morning Track, “God’s Disruptive Invitation to Creative Intimacy,” I got a strong feeling that I wouldn’t be discussing those new ideas much beyond casual responses to, “So, what else are you working on?”
A strange question came to mind and repeated until I paid attention: What if God asked you to scrap all those summaries?
What?
You are a different person now. You are moving forward. Maybe that should include a fresh writing project.
I had three fiction works-in-progress and two non-fiction ideas in my folder. It took me a long time to summarize them in such a way that I could pitch them to an editor or talk them over with my agent without rambling like a dork. What else did God want me to write?
I got my answer as my agent and I wrapped up a wonderful thirty minutes together: You don’t need to know right now.
That felt surprisingly okay with me. Freeing even.
I don’t need to know! Because God knows.
Before going home I felt a nudge to take this picture as a reminder.
I’m sure I’ve walked over this bridge many times during my years at Mount Hermon, so I know there is something on the other side of it—something beautiful, because it’s Mount Hermon—but I don’t get to see that beautiful “something” until I cross the bridge.
This morning one sentence came to mind that I think might be the opening of a new book. Not a topic; not a plot. One sentence. One.
Am I writing a novel or a memoir? The one sentence could easily apply to either.
You don’t need to know right now. There it was again! And again the unknown felt surprisingly okay with me.
“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’” declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’” (Jeremiah 29:11).
I guess that’s why it’s okay with me. I may not know what I’m doing but He does, and whatever He has in mind will be beautiful.
How “okay” are you with the unknown?
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I didn’t used to be okay with the unknown. Planning is more “my thing.” Like you, however, I’m a different person now–now that I let God break the lock on the self-imposed cage I’ve been living in. I’m looking forward to writing in creative intimacy with God instead of in my heady isolationism. So glad I could share this first step across the bridge with you, Jeanette.
I feel the same way, Jeanette! The self-imposed cage feels comfortable until we realize that a cage is a prison.
I’m thankful to that we get to walk the bridge together.
You are a wise woman.
Thank you, Jan! So are you :).
Yes. Oh, yes, Jeanette. As long as God knows, it’s not the unknown. The question I ask myself is, “Do you trust God?” Whenever I feel that twinge of uncertainty trying to nudge me into worry, I ask myself, ” If you truly trust God, then don’t ypu think He has this part of your life planned out, too?” Thanks for the beautiful reminder to enjoy the walk over the bridge, trusting that God knows so we don’t have to know. Hallelujah!
“Do you trust God?” I have to ask myself that daily! Thank you for sharing this journey with me, Xochi!