Faith in the Blank Page

I never bought into the idea of predestination. That we are each locked into a flight path that is pre-determined. It is largely why I reject the pablum-like cliche: “Everything happens for a reason.”

Conversely, I never accepted the atheistic idea that everything is just a series of biological triggers. That chance is a myth. That there is no divine. We just live the best life possible and die.

Having spent four decades in a fundamentalist church, I subscribed to the idea that God has a plan. That faith is trusting in that plan. Each experience we have is an unfolding of that plan. I still somewhat believe this. I’m just learning that the plan is beyond my comprehension.

I do believe the continuum of spiritual growth starts with learning and following, then evolves to creating, and in life’s final chapter, becomes codifying. If roles, they’d be: first a student, then a creator, then an oracle.

I find myself in the creator phase of life. I feel a daily urge to create things that didn’t exist before. I feel an urge to capture thoughts and musings and share them as inspired. I feel an urge to create a writing discipline. I feel called to write a memoir.

At this stage, God’s plan looks an awful lot like a blank page.