Of destinations and detours

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I’ve never been much of a planner. I tend to be a wait-till-the-last-minute person. Some might call it procrastination. I simply call it preference. I don’t like to get bogged down in too many details. To-do lists overwhelm me. I focus so much on everything that needs to get done that I can’t enjoy completing each individual task. I understand the need for plans and to-do lists. And God put plenty of people on this earth who are not only exceptional at planning but who receive immense pleasure from checking off or crossing out items on their lists.

My sister is a planner. And she’s a really good one. Have a momentous occasion coming up? She’s your gal. Everything from the invitations to the table decor to the entertainment will be thematically linked, of the highest quality, and have hours of thought behind its execution. Party planner extraordinaire. It’s her new middle name.

Me? Well, let’s just say, “Oh is that tomorrow?” is my middle name. Prime example: my hubby recently celebrated his 50th birthday. Pretty big deal, right? I threw together a swell shindig at Incredible Pizza complete with one-week-notice phone invites to two friends and my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. My hubby still enjoyed the “party”. Personally I think it was the over-the-hill ensemble I made him wear. Either that or the all-he-could-eat pizza buffet.

I am also the person who, unlike everyone else in my family, doesn’t send out Christmas cards. Not because I don’t want to or don’t have time. I could make the time. I just forget. My “forgetfulness” over the years is evidenced in the four Christmas cards I get from family every year as opposed to the thirty or forty my sister gets. She remembers to send hers. Always.

This time of year, it’s easy to see the chasm separating the planners from the non-planners. Planners had their Christmas decorations up the day after Thanksgiving and several gleaming gifts under the tree. Us non-planners still have presents to purchase and bins of decorations nestled in the attic.

I accept my preference. Others may not, but I do. It’s who I am.

I’ve been watching people plan for upcoming trips to various locations. I’ve seen people book hotels, purchase plane tickets, reserve rental cars, fill carts with travel-size HBAs. Checking to-do lists, scratching off completed items.

Me? I don’t travel much. Meniere’s Disease makes traveling not so fun. But that’s OK. I’ve accepted that this is who I am.

And believe it or not, I am planning for a destination. I RSVP’d “Yes” several years ago. And my life hasn’t been the same since.

All our plans (or non-plans), all our destinations are but detours on the road to our final destination. The one where we get to meet our Father who so lovingly adopted us into His family.

God is a Master Planner, so He sent out His invitations when He created man. He even sent His Son to personally invite everyone.

My hope is for more people to RSVP “Yes” to Him, “Yes” to the only destination that matters, “Yes” to His plan, His will, His Word. It is the best “Yes” a person can make.

The date on His invitation is drawing near. Oh how I pray that few miss it.