Tuesday, December 23, 2003

Sedalina got me thinking this morning about planning. And faith. Anybody that can scroll down'll tell you that I had a bad day last Friday. But I took the night off and am feeling much better. I even made Christmas cookies with Christie on Sunday, and had fun doing it. Fun or no, eight hours of baking really takes it out of you, so when the last cookie was glazed, we collapsed on the couch for some HGTV. They were showing a renovation in San Francisco, the kind of renovation where you can barely even tell what the original house looked like, and at some point they mentioned that it had taken more than three years to complete.

"Three years?" the voice in my head said, "I can't imagine..." and then it went into that vague, tricky business thoughts can manage that language can't, where simultaneous and contradictory things piled on top of each other, but the whole seemed to make sense. Something about relationships, trusting your spouse to still be there, holding down a job, counting on being the same person, health issues, all the things that can go right or wrong to make planning pointless, and in the end it added up to "I can't imagine."

A friend of mine used to say the best way to make God laugh was to tell her your plans. And I've seen a lot of evidence for that over the years, as the rug got yanked out from under the feet of wonderful people by death, divorce, infertility, job loss, health problems, you name it. So if I stand back and look at myself objectively, it's no wonder I'm averse to planning. But my aversion isn't based in reason, it's based in fear. And I don't like being the guy standing on the edge of the pool saying, "Is it cold? It looks cold." while everybody else is splashing around and having fun.

I didn't want this to be a New Year's Resolution post, but it's starting to look that way. My goal for the next year, then, is to make God laugh. There are worse things to be than God's fool.

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