Seasons change. Time passes. Whether we plan it to or not.
Meandering through the vast Hyde Park of London, I found myself surrounded by bountiful flowers and grass. I also found myself amongst a tactical conversation of planning. As most people do on trips, an itinerary is necessary for means of comfort (oh wait, that’s just me? Type A people… please stand up)
As my travel partner and I spoke of a minute detail pertaining to another destination we are going to in the coming weeks, I mustered the words “sounds like a plan of the present.”
And I was almost taken aback at my own comment.
I have never not been a planner.
Every moment. Every stitch. Every second.
But I have found myself overseas, somehow letting go of the grip of control. On a lot of things.
I can attest that the cliché is true: the lifestyle, once immersed, in Europe changes you. Though I am not the first to observe this, it is the first time I’ve experienced the notion.
I grew up in a culture that thrives on the fast future. You did too.
But what would happen if we allowed time to mull us over, like the new tulips in spring?
Turn off our notifications?
Put down the planner?
It’s funny because we don’t control clocks. And worry doesn’t add a minute to our lives either way.
What if we let God do what He’s done since before we were around to tell Him how to do it?
I’m working on it. I challenge you to do the same as your make your way into a new week.
Maybe the flowers don’t need an agenda,
Maybe none of us do.
