Plans Change

This week I caught the bus with a young woman who was making an unscheduled trip to a business meeting in Portland—via Seattle.

She and her boyfriend had taken a day trip to Port Angeles to visit the Olympic National Park, specifically Hurricane Ridge—the majestic 5,200-foot mountain you can drive all the way to the top.

Scott, who had walked her to the bus stop, introduced himself and explained his truck’s brakes failed on the way down the mountain. Brake failure has happened to others before—not always with a good ending.

But they made it safely to bottom, got to a hotel, and now his girlfriend, Toonah (like the fish, she said) had to catch this bus to get to Seattle, to make a flight to Portland for an important work event.

Scott wanted to take the bus with her and get her to Seattle safely, but I offered to help her figure out the ferry instead.

Toonah  sat across from me, and spent much of the ride making phone calls in her native language —it sounded eloquent and musical. She spoke English quite well, too.

I asked her how scary had it been coming down Hurricane Ridge.

She said she didn’t realize it was scary until Scott began to panic.

“I worried then,” she said.

Brake failure on a steep, winding mountain would rattle anyone. Without brakes, they couldn’t even leave Port Angeles.

Toonah met the sudden change of plans with grace and calm—even though she was trying to make it to an important business meeting on time. She shrugged and said,

“It’s going to be fine. Things happen.”

That’s something I’m not as adept at. I like to make plans and then pour cement around them.

As I sat, thinking about Toonah’s ability to hold both gratitude for avoiding catastrophe and openness to a new plan, I realized something: I have a whole year to practice rolling with changing plans—no cement required.

We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps. Proverbs 16:9