The "Plan"

One of the funniest scenes in the (largely unfunny) movie Along Came Polly is when the title character and her boyfriend get into a fight. Polly is a free spirit. She takes salsa dancing lessons and holds down jobs sporadically and still hasn't unpacked from her last move, though it was a year ago. Her boyfriend, Reuben, is the opposite. He is wound very tightly. He likes things the way he likes them, and he spends his life assessing and then avoiding risk.

--Photo borrowed from the Painted Pink Roses blog

Polly and Reuben get into a fight where he accuses her of being too free spirited.

"I have a plan!" she yells.

"No!" he yells back, in that manic Ben Stiller way, "No! You don't! You are on the NON PLAN PLAN!"

I have never in my life been on the non plan plan. I am a planner. I plan. I was one of those junior high kids already mapping out a career path during my 7th grade. I was one of those college students who took each class with an eye to where it would lead me. I was one of those seminary students who made sure to take ordination exams at the earliest opportunity, just in case I needed to take them over again.

Granted, this has never really worked out for me. In high school I planned to be a veterinarian. Then I discovered that I faint at the sight of blood.

In college I planned to be a journalist. Then I took an intensive internship and found that journalism wasn't my ultimate calling. 

In seminary I planned and planned and planned, but soon realized that the matchmaking dance between pastors-to-be and churches-needing-pastors could never, ever be precisely scheduled.

Now I'm expecting a baby. In just under ten weeks--give or take two--there will be a new person living in my house. 

There are things I can plan for. The nursery is on its way to being finished. The "to go" bag is in progress. The gluten free meals are stacked in the freezer, waiting our dash to the hospital (sadly, our country hospital does not provide safe gluten free meals... that's a whole 'nother blog post...).

But mostly, I can't plan.

I haven't officially met this little person yet. I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. I don't know if there will be colic or sleep problems. I don't know if I'll take to breastfeeding like a fish to water or have lots of struggles starting out. I don't know if my labor will go as I hope, or if I'll be screaming for narcotics ten minutes in.

I don't even know when the beh-beh will arrive. Early? Late? Right on schedule?

For a planner, it's hard not to find this maddening.

For a pastor, it's hard to hold this with open hands. 

I'll have some great pulpit supply while I'm gone, but when will that begin? How can I help schedule the committee meetings when I don't know if I'll be gone in August or September or October? Toward the end of the pregnancy, will I want to take maternity leave a few days early, in preparation, or will I want to save every single day? Should I sign up for that important meeting two hours away when it's two weeks until my due date, or is that too risky?

It's enough to make my head spin.

There's a lesson in all of this, I'm sure.

I like predictability. I like schedules. I like to plan.

With a baby, much of that will go out the window. This is good. God doesn't work on anyone's schedule but his own. Too often I struggle to get out of my weekly ruts--Sunday worship, Monday sermon prep, Thursday home visits. 

This is good for me, but it's hard. Exciting. And nerve-wracking. And hard.