Blueprints

All of the things that were meant to happen will happen. This is what I must remember. If anything is going to happen, it will still happen, even though things have changed. Sometimes I just wish God would let me see the plan. For a nanosecond. Just a quick peek. I don't need to know all the details, I just want to know the basics, like what's going to be included.

He's the architect of my life, and I'm starting to get this feeling that he doesn't sketch the same way I do. I'm no draftsman, but I've got the sense this floor plan isn't logical. Like maybe it's got a three story staircase that leads no where. So when I get to the top all I'm looking down on is the edge of a cliff. But what I'm praying is this: God has designed some hidden rooms or tunnels. Some secret locations that no one can see, that will take me some place beautiful. Someplace safe.

I'm counting on you, God.

This is a snow fort I've built, and it's getting cold.
It's a sand castle on the beach, and it's starting to crumble. I'm being washed away.
I'm in a tree house, God, and the branches have split in the lightening storm.
I'm sitting in a mud hut, choking on the dust from the ground.
There's a teepee on my back, Lord, and I've set it up one too many times alone.

What are you building for me, God? Make it something good.