Knowing God's Plan (The One That's Really Just Your Own)

 I've made my share of mistakes in life. As I read a book aloud to the family at the dinner table (titled "Better Decisions, Fewer Regrets") my mind is drawn like a moth to a flame to some of the more spectacular ones. Most of them didn't mar my life for too long, thank God. But the Condo From Hell (I believe that's the name next to the PIN over at City Hall) kept me in misery for several years. 

It began as 3-man partnership.

The subcontractor did shoddy work and had ADHD.

(This turned out to matter.)

The general contractor had zero (0) experience in renovation project management.

(This turned out to matter.)

I provided the money, but I had zero (0) experience in real estate investment.

(This turned out to matter.)

I started this blog some 13 years ago while I was trying to escape Condo From Hell. It still hurts to read those old posts. I lost about $150,000 on a $70,000 investment. That takes talent.

I did pray over those plans, and they seemed like good ones. Going in. In hindsight, God's take on my adventures probably involved a lot wincing (on his part). Certainly a lot of wincing on my part. Anyway, the disparity between how I saw matters going in verses how I view them in my rear view mirror is startling.

That all came to mind as I read an old letter my mother wrote in 1971. I've heard this story a few times over the years. When I was a toddler my dad went into business with several other guys with a plan to do something... something...  yeah... something cool that will be awesome for the kingdom of God.

(Lack of specificity. Warning sign #1.)

Purchasing 100 (yes, one hundred) acres of land with such poor planning is a fool's errand, and my parents were poor.

(A high-stakes bet made by poor folk. Warning sign #2.)

The general contractor, I'll call him, turned out to be an incompetent, and not terribly godly, man.

(Poor judgement of character. Warning sign #3.)

All the warning signs were there. And yes, all the plans came to naught. in the early 80s, my parents finally escaped the partnership after a legal battle. All the land they had bought? It was eventually sold about ten years later, still virgin and utterly undeveloped. 

But spot the difference. The land they purchased just happened to be on the slopes of Mauna Loa, in Hawaii (where we lived at the time, believe it or not). Over the next 10 years, that land went up in value. By orders of magnitude. (And continued to do so after they sold it!) When the dust had settled, My parents came out much wealthier than they went in.

The mysteries of God. The folly? Well, my parents and I had that in common. The financial harvest we reaped? Couldn't have been more different.

But what's interesting to me now (and instructive) is to read now how my mother wrote of it in 1971.

With several other Christian men in the city, we bought 100 acres about twenty miles from town. We are in love with it... So the Lord has provided "abundantly." The four men involved in the group are leaving the back, more forested 50 acres open for whatever the Lord may lead its use to be. Whether a campground or orphan home or half-way house, He'll show us when we need to know. Last week He again showed His leading...

My mother was a very godly woman. And very much mistaken.

How often we Christians use words like these. When we apply them to the past, it usually sounds fine. We share at the church meeting our gratitude at how God provided for us. But is what we're saying true?

I pose that as a question not because I doubt God's goodness, but rather because, when we're peering forward into an uncertain future, our efforts to describe God's goodness and God's leading are, to state matters charitably, often rather ham-fisted.

God all too often turns out not to be on the same page that our glowing assessment has him pinned to. God was not leading my parents to build an orphanage. They made a lot of money on that land, Yes. But No, no Christian organization ever set foot on it. You wouldn't know that, to hear my mother's telling of the story in 1971. This is not to fault my mother. I've been there, said that, and lived to see how wrong I was.

The takeaway. If the past has anything to teach us, it's that we are not good at predicting the future. Our own plans fall apart, and we at least knew those plans going in. How much more foolish to think we know what is coming, when we are not privvy to the details of God's plans.

Better that we stick to what we know: God is good. God is with us. God provides. Looking back over my life, I can truthfully say to my children that God has been with me and has provided for me. I can assure them that God will be with them, too.

But specifics? Those are above my pay grade.

You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’

Surely I spoke of things I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me to know. (Job 42:3)