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Better Than My Dreams by Paula RinehartEXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 1

LIFE AS A JOURNEY

So we encounter somewhere along the way this rite of passage, this right-sizing of expectation about life. You have probably discovered some of the same realities I have—that marriages and close relationships require a world of give and take, that your children have challenges even the best mother can’t remedy. Perhaps you have been blindsided by a couple of stinging losses you didn’t see coming—or felt like a character in a play who suddenly finds herself saying someone else’s lines, as though you were reading from the wrong script and this experience could not be part of your life. But it is.
     Hardly any of us travel very far without encountering at least one huge disappointment. One blot of black paint on an otherwise charming canvas. One obstacle in our path that simply refuses to yield. I used to think this was just my experience in life. And then I started to pay closer attention. No one comes through unscathed. And those who appear to do so are usually just better pretenders.
     Life is uncertain. Coming to grips with that uncertainty, in the deep places of your heart, is like breaking through a sound barrier—or waking up after a long, long nap. It’s like a conversation I had with a woman trying to decide whether to marry a man she’d waited years to meet.
     Her story was this. Her clearest memories of childhood were the hours she spent by the bed of her father as he died a slow, sad death from Lou Gehrig’s disease. In her little-girl mind, she thought that with her presence and her help, he would get better. At least she could bring him a few moments of joy. And so she sat there dutifully—hour after hour, month after month until he died.
     She had grown into a compassionate woman in her thirties, with a depth and gentleness that made her a superb nurse. And finally— finally—she’d met a man who felt worth the wait. She was all set to marry him. Only, in a particular twist of irony, this man was battling an illness as well. It wasn’t life threatening, but it was chronic. And it was way too close to home for her.
     Her heart wanted to move forward in the relationship, but her head searched for some assurance that she would not be sitting by another man’s bedside down the road. “I want to know that I won’t repeat that earlier pain,” she admitted, understandably.
     I know you do, I thought. Oh, for a few guarantees. I wished like crazy I could offer her some. But our conversations were more about making peace with the terms of this planet—that there are precious few guarantees about the things that matter most. God is the only certainty. So if my future holds some repeat of my past (which is sometimes the case), then what I know is that he will be there. Jesus will still be there. And my experience of his love and care in those moments is what will make for a new chapter and not an old bad dream. It’s an incredible dance of trust.
     Do you remember when you first really understood how fragile life is? Do you recall what was happening in your life when you realized that God did not promise some sort of immunity from pain—and he didn’t provide a protective coating so you wouldn’t actually feel it? That there aren’t any guarantees? For each of us, life holds a few Humpty Dumpty experiences where it feels like all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put this thing together again. And God eventually takes those broken pieces and fashions something far better than anything we could even think to dream.
     I want to suggest that it’s just these places in your experience—where dreams and expectations don’t work out—that you are being issued the invitation of your life. Disappointment is, strangely enough, a doorway to the real adventure. It’s the point where you start to leave behind notions of how your story should read—and enter your relationship with God as a journey. A true journey, one that’s wild and adventurous and not anywhere close to predictable.
     When I lived in Colorado Springs, years ago, I remember one of Brent Curtis’s offhand comments, spoken in a casual moment of reflection before he wrote The Sacred Romance. “I feel like I am just beginning to know God,” he said. And I thought, That’s a strange thing to say, Brent. You’ve been a Christian for years.
     I realize now that Brent was speaking of this thing of journey—a kind of emotional conversion that comes as you stop living on the edge of straining to get God to do what you have in mind. The freedom to actually be on an adventure with God becomes strangely possible when you aren’t pushing so hard for The Package. That path is filled with the oddest surprises. The simple truths you thought you knew—like the grace of being truly forgiven, the possibility of being known and still loved—start to take shape inside you in ways that could not happen with all your plans in place.
     While you may take many trips over your life and unpack your literal suitcase a thousand times, there is really only one journey that matters—and that is the actual story that unfolds in learning to trust God as you share his company.
     If your life worked out the way you think you want—or if you could just pretend that doesn’t matter—it would all be easier. You might cruise into the sunset. But honestly, you’d miss out on a real journey with God.
     And you’d walk right past wonderful.

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© 2007 by Paula Rinehart


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