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The Only Possible Life

By Lisa Fitts
By Herbert Yoo
By Cymone Canada
By Dave Grogan
By Arnie Fenton
By Dan Millner
By Alex Joseph
By Samantha Harton
By Bailey Catone
By Colin Campbell
By Barb Harris
By Mark Mercer
By Sereena Bexley
By Vennecia Jackson
By Mary Lata Thottukadavil
By Michael Agnew
By Kristie Davis
By AJ Jerkins
By Caroline Smiley
By Kathy Whitthorne
By Dawn Johnson
By DJ Newman
By Mary Weyand
By Rob Nickell
By Kathy Whitthorne
By Nila Odom
By Sherene Joseph Rajadurai
By Kristi Sheffy
By Sharon Arrington
By Sarah Crawford
By Betsy Paul
By Angel Piña
By Elizabeth Piña
By Chris Kuykendall
By Matt Holland
By Jessie Yearwood
By Brian Severski
By Brian Arrington
By Will Meier
By Clint Calhoun
By Jen Mayes
By Jim Henry
By Kevin Harwood
By Leah Vanhorn
By Janett Miller
By Isaac Harris
By Chad Golden
By Jonathan Cortina
By Kuruvilla (K.O.) Oommen
By John Dyer
By Abe Paul
By Lauren Geppert
By Jennifer Durrett
By Jill Asibelua
By Jared Barnett
By Paul Martin
By Norm Headlam
By Kristi Herring
By Sissy Mathew
By Shannon Pugh
By Al Palamara
By Michelle Garza
By Armando Galvan
By Camille Holland
By Rod Myers
By Crystal Elwell
By Darcy Peterson
By Jason Elwell
By Barry Jones
By Bryan Eck
By Tricia Kinsman
By Craig Pierce
By Jim Woodward
By Andy McQuitty
By Kevin Dial
By Corbin Pierce
By Claire St. Amant
By Julie K. Rhodes
By Anonymous
By Jasmine Bibbs
By Debra Fournerat
By Kat Armstrong
By Jeffery Link
By Courtney Faucett
By Lenae Moore
By Tiffany Stein
By Andy Webb
By Catherine Boyle
By Catherine & Elizabeth Downing
By Gerald Ridgway
By Jill Hoenig
By Sunitha John
By Tarrin Henry
By RozeLee Rugh
By Beverly Hogan
By Kendra Cordero
By Lisa Gajewski
By Bonnie Goree
By Young-Sam Won
By Chris Beach
By Tom Rugh
By Nick Vuicich
By Andy Franks
By Lead Team
By Jason Roszhart
By Harvard Medical School
By Justin K. Hughes, MA, LPC
By Sherene Joseph
By Earl Davidson
By Rebecca Perry
By Joe Padilla
By Christian Melendez
By Bruce Riley
By Isaac Harris
By Amy Leadabrand
By Ben Haile
By Shaun Robinson
By Natalie Franks
By Cathy Barnett
By Ryan Sanders
By Casey Pruet, The Grace Alliance
By Sharon Arrington
By Lauren Chapin
By Betsy Paul
By Alberto Negron
By Kelly Jarrell
By Michelle Mayes
By Jenn Wright
By Jill Jackson
By Terri Moore
By Robyn Wise
By Katherine Holloway
By Richard Ray
By Kurtlery Knight
By Bruce Hebel
By Neil Tomba
By Tony Bridwell
By Grayson McGovern
By Luke Donohoo
By Kathy Whitthorne
By Mike Moore
By Wade Raper
By Mike Gwartney
By Jo Saxton
By Dieula Previlon
By Jonathan Cude
By Ken Lawrence
By Jay Hohfeler
By Barb Haesecke
By Lindsay Casillas
By JoAnn Hummel
By Shawn Small
By Alice McQuitty
By Jonathan Murphy
By Peggy Norton
By Brent McKinney
By Irving Bible Church
By Irving Bible Church
By Ashley Tieperman
By Betsy Nichols
By Trey Grant
By Debbie Lucien
By Sue Edwards
By Suzie Robinson
By Paul Smith

The other day, my husband came home with a  three-ring binder from a business coaching group to which he belongs. He plopped it down beside me on the couch: “Personal Life Planner” it said on the cover. It beckoned to me. It had a picture of a bald eagle soaring majestically, apparently above the heads of all the losers who hadn’t planned a darn thing.

“I got you one, too,” Gordon said. And sure enough, as if by sleight of hand, another life-plan binder materialized from behind his back. 

God must think we’re the cutest things. 

A few weeks prior to this, I just happened to be overlooking a vineyard, drinking a sauvignon blanc and having a conversation with a professor of philosophy. Because this never happens, I had to work this scene into this article somehow. Also, my nails were nice.

She was telling me about my impending mid-life crisis. Since I’m 35, I have the next ten years before the realization hits that I have wasted. Every. Last. Minute. Was I living true to my passions or would I look back with regret? She was really fun. 

It turns out, this feeling of mid-life unease had already been churning inside me, having just been instructed by my doctor to have my first-ever mammogram the week prior. “Your body is about to start betraying you,” Dr. Deem might have said. “Now is the time for vigilance.”

“Your life is about to start betraying you,” my philosophy-prof friend might have said, as the breeze curled our hair around the wine glass stems. “Now is the time for vigilance.”

“Your PLANS, however, will NOT betray you!” my Life-Plan Binder was exclaiming, a bit hysterically. “Now is the time for vigilance!!!” 

All this vigilance, all this self-protection and promotion. I feel so caught up in it. I just have this one precious life, this one precious body, this one shot. No wonder it’s tempting to believe in reincarnation; it’s too much pressure to live just once.  

I looked to the Bible for examples of people who had to overcome this problem, but it seems like, to me, biblical people didn’t have the luxury of worrying about maximizing their potential. At least not in the way I feel it. Their gods took other forms and their Personal Life Plan binders were more of the horse-and-chariot, rich-meat-of-Babylon variety. 

Perhaps the antithesis of this is John the Baptist, who lived oddly off the grid, oddly out of control.

I’m not sure, if left to his own devices, he would have put Poor, Locust-Eating Bachelor on his 5-year plan. But that’s just it; he was never left to his own devices, never left to live all for himself, all by himself. And neither are we. 

Psalm 31 is balm to a soul like mine, which is eager for assurance in this season of life. The poet is bemoaning the vagaries of his misfortune, the oppression of his enemies, even the self-betrayal of his own sin — all things, I’m sure, he never imagined for his life in an earlier time. All things, I’m sure, which interfered with his idea of a well wrought, fully-realized existence. And then he speaks the most glorious word in Scripture: “But.”

“But I trust in you, Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hands…”Psalm 31:14-15

John the Baptist did not seem to understand exactly what was happening with his life and ministry, especially towards the end of it (Matt. 11:2-4). An imprisonment and early beheading (as opposed to a timely beheading?) obviously threw him for a loop. Life probably looked nothing like he had imagined, but I think (I hope) he quoted the Psalmist to himself in the darkness, like a prayer, like a question —

“You are my God. I am not my god. My times are in your hands. They are not in mine.”

Perhaps I can pray this prayer, too. Perhaps vigilance is overrated, or only useful as it spurs us to pursue greater freedom and fellowship with God. Perhaps binders are only useful for Disney vacations. Perhaps right now, with him, is the only possible life. 

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