Here’s What I Learned When My Life Didn’t Pan Out

So you made a great life plan and watched it go up in flames?

Yeah, me too.

I’m that girl. I love plans, career counselors, conferences like Storyline, good therapists and anything else that will guide and inspire me to craft a life that’s worth living. I planned my story out, complete with dreams, goals, purpose and a sense that God had called and equipped me to start down the path.

Photo Credit: Leo Hidalgo, Creative Commons

My husband and I were in a band we loved, playing sold-out shows across the country. We had major radio success and were crossing the 100,000 mark in c.d. sales.

That’s when it all began to unravel.

Two major thefts (including our van, trailer, musical gear and merchandise), one head-on collision, one RV fire, and emergency surgery for our 11-month-old daughter all hit in under a years time. We found ourselves financially ruined and emotionally incapable of continuing down the path we were on.

The band that I had poured myself into for eleven years was forced to disband, my husband and I were on the brink of bankruptcy and I watched as my life plans burned to the ground.

Left with broken dreams and no clear direction for my future, I was 30-years-old and completely lost.

Here’s what I learned when my life plan didn’t pan out.

It’s ok to be lost.

Our culture and churches have NO idea what to do with lost people. Most wanted to fix me as quickly as possible and put me out of my misery.

My heartache was uncomfortable for them. My not knowing what came next didn’t bode well for a God who should magically fix things or for a woman who should have her life all together by now.

Unwanted job suggestions, horrible theology, and pithy sentiments of new doors opening flooded my inbox. True empathy was in short supply. I was tempted to rush into the next phase of life simply to put a bow-on-it for everyone.

“Look, see! God is good and immediately fixed it!”

What I found instead was a God who invited me into a season of lostness and provided no quick answers or magical fixes.

Living without answers and a life plan became the season where I finally found faith in a God who was with me and for me despite my not knowing what came next. God felt especially near in those lonely moments and I slowly learned to trust that he knew how to re-purpose my plans. My prayers became centered around knowing God’s presence rather than getting God’s answers.

The spiritual invitation was clear: Sit in the tension. Don’t rush this. It’s ok to be lost because lost things get found.

It’s ok to grieve the life-plan that will never be.

Not knowing what came next, I wanted to throw myself into being a stay-at-home-mom. The only problem was I didn’t know how to do anything domestic-y. I was at the grocery store on the spaghetti aisle when I realized I had spent years eating back stage in green rooms and in airports and had no idea how to cook for my family.

The spaghetti noodles taunted me and I felt like a complete failure.

Grief washed over me and I longed for life to be the way it used to be. An all out ugly cry ensued. I left my grocery cart in the middle of the aisle and ran to the car sobbing. I called my mom and she said, “Jenny, this is your invitation to grieve what was.”

And that’s the moment I was finally given permission to mourn.

We often think that grieving is an act reserved for the death of a person. But I’ve learned that grieving should extend to our dreams and life-plans as well.

I’ve heard so many people say, “I have no idea why I am so upset over this. It’s just a _____.” Fill in the blank with job, church, friendship, community group, trip, dream, goal, early miscarriage or life-plan. As if the loss of those things are not worthy of deep grief.

What a lie. A loss is a loss no matter how small.

We rob ourselves of the most basic human experience when we limit what is grieve-able and deny ourselves space to mourn life’s losses.

Grieving is ultimately the gateway to moving forward.

Before a new life-plan can take root, the old one has to be properly mourned and laid to rest. Give yourself (and others) permission to grieve.

It’s ok to dream again.

After you have watched your plans unravel you might be tempted to play it safe. Why chase dreams when there is no sense of security in their staying power?

My initial response was to play it safe and live in fear of the what-ifs. But five years later I know better. Why not chase my dreams? I’ve experienced the worst and know how to hold my plans a little more loosely now. I’ve got nothing to lose. Plus, I’ve watched as new dreams have taken root, dreams I would’ve never known to dream up five years ago.

Now I know new life comes out of lostness.

These days I’m less interested in life plans that succeed and more interested in living well no matter how the plans pan out. This leaves me free to dream big, fall hard, and trust that newness is always on the horizon.

When your life plan doesn’t go the way you thought it would, don’t dismiss the holy seasons of lostness, grieving and re-dreaming.

There is room at the table for each of these steps in the healing journey and they ultimately pave the way for new life to find its way out of the ashes.