As a young teen, I had a poster hanging above my bed. I think it was a pull-out from a Brio Magazine (do they even still publish that?), and it featured a dramatic rainbow with Jeremiah 29:11 in script at the bottom. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a futre."
It was the first verse I remember hanging onto, hoping that it might be true. Through my angsty teen years, I hoped fervently that God did have good plans for me, and that they involved marriage and a house with a white picket fence. And at various points, lots of Gap clothing, a leather bomber jacket, and a pair of strirrup pants. (Thank goodness those weren't His plans for me. The stirrup pants, I mean. I would still take the Gap clothing.)
Fast forward to the present, and I did get married and have kids. Beautiful, amazing kids. Brutally messy marriage. A split-rail fence instead of the white picket and lots of financial worries. I've been pursuing God's voice a lot in the past few months, and I have been struggling. Terribly. On Tuesday, after I shared a glimpse of my hurt, one of the women in my group prayed over me. The verse she used? Jeremiah 29:11 It registered, but not much. I had heard it and hoped it for so long, and then relegated it to the pile of nice things to think.
And then today, at the Brave experience, it was on the program I chose. And then I stopped for prayer at the end. I gave the woman praying a brief synopsis, and she began to pray. Jeremiah 29:11. Again.
I asked God for signs. Maybe this is one? Maybe he has plans to prosper me, not to harm me. Plans to give me a future. I cling to that. And I've never been one to have a "life verse", but if I did, perhaps this should be mine.
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