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April 16, 2015

Don't Plan So MuchI think I’m about to contradict a lot of what I just said in my last post about Backwards Planningbecause as much as I endeavor to plan out every last detail in our lives, I ultimately believe that I cannot control All The Things. And I don’t want to encourage you to try to, either. It will not only be a failed undertaking, but I don’t even think it’s wise or good. I don’t always live that way, but this is something I strive to believe in my heart and live out in my life. I know there are parents who don’t overthink their parenting half as much as I do, and their kids turn out just fine. The first example that comes to mind is my own parents.

While my husband and I researched the district and schools and city demographics before purchasing our home, I’m pretty sure my parents stumbled across what became my childhood home by accident and ended up purchasing it by God’s grace alone. Something about getting lost and running out of gas. It was really on accident. They never had ambitions for us to be athletic, musical, or at the top of our classes. It was never a goal for them to have their children attend two of the most highly-sought universities in the world, and if you asked them twenty years ago, they probably would not have imagined people would be seeking them out to instruct parenting courses in the years to come.

If you ask them what their secret was, here is what they always say: they entrusted our lives to God. They make no comment on which sports to play, which instruments to learn, or which clubs to join. Their answer is simple. Trust God. I imagine this is frustrating advice to some parents, but I’m pretty sure that’s what all of their advice boils down to.

I make an effort not to be too in-your-face about my beliefs in my space here, but when it comes to my parents (especially my mom) there’s no other way to put it. She fiercely knows in her heart of hearts that any successes she had as a parent were not due to her own efforts and planning, but thanks to the grace of God. There is no other way to put it.

My parents never backwards planned for me to have perfect pitch, play music by ear, or be the captain of athletic varsity teams. They never backwards planned for my brother to become the standing concertmaster for years in orchestras, captain his athletic varsity teams, or win hundreds of thousands in competitions. When it was time to apply for colleges, we were on our own. Unlike many of the parents I know these days, they had no opinions on which AP tests I should take or which schools I should apply for. I still remember tearing through the house one Saturday morning, looking for my car keys and racing out the door. I had just gotten home from prom a few hours prior, and my dad was very surprised to see me racing out the door again so soon.

“Where are you going? Eat some breakfast first,” he said.

“CAN’T. NO TIME. AP TEST. IN TWENTY MINUTES.” I flew outta there and only barely made it into my seat on time (actually a little late, but for some reason the proctor let it go).

This gives you an idea of how hands-off my parents were willing to be. I remember several instances where my mother would tap on my bedroom door in the earliest hours of the morning while I was cramming for some test, always with the same advice: “Stop studying. Go to sleep. Just read the summary at the end of the chapter. That’s good enough.”

Hah. Do those sound like the words of a tiger mom? Tiger mom she was not. She figured if I hadn’t covered the text by the night before, getting a good night of sleep was simply more important.

Don’t get me wrong– they were very involved, supportive, and loving parents. My mom spent time sitting with me while I practiced piano as a child, and my dad frequently came home from work early to take me to the courts to shoot hoops. They were two of my biggest fans and went to all my games and recitals. It’s just that they didn’t try to engineer successes in my life the way I’m tempted to do with my own child.

Perhaps a drawback is that sometimes, we were not as disciplined as we could have been. I still vividly remember my mom trying to train me to set my packed backpack out by the doorway in the evenings, so in our rushed and harried mornings, I wouldn’t be running around the house looking for my things, making everyone late. I don’t think it stuck until I was in high school. That’s too bad– especially for my brother, who was one of those A+, on-time kids who hated how his little sister always made him late for school.

Maybe their lack of backwards planning meant I learned some lessons the hard way– but don’t we all, whether the details of our lives are carefully engineered by our parents or not? My husband used to laugh at me for sharing with him plans I had for our unborn children. Conversations I’d have with them when they had bullies, ways I would help them improve in athletics, the various instruments each one would play. Like I was God, and could just foresee and decide all these things, from the best order of sports for athletic development to methods for bracing them for heartache later in life. I had it all planned out.

My mother, on the other hand, just spewed scripture at me. I’m not even kidding. I’m not sure she had anticipated the wretchedness that is mean middle school girls, and when their cruelty hit me full force in eighth grade, she would sing out the chorus of a song from my childhood, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” At the time, it annoyed me and I just wanted to hit “Pause” on her singsong performance, but the words stuck. I couldn’t hate them if I wanted to, and instead felt compelled to try to love. What a terribly difficult lesson for anyone. What a terribly important lesson for anyone.

We didn’t have long, drawn-out conversations. She didn’t backwards plan for me to endure their torment in love and joy, and she never foresaw that years later, the very same girls would search me out for friendship. She never backwards planned for this saga to end in high school with their apologies and words of admiration for my character. She just entrusted me to the Lord and everything else fell into place.

And as much as I endeavor to plan out All The Things, this is ultimately how I hope to parent. I will use the personality and gifts and experiences the good Lord gave me to raise and train and care for my children, but always, always I hope to do it with a hands-open attitude that God’s plan for my family is best. That doesn’t mean I expect them to go to ivy league schools or that they’ll even be outstanding in any of the many extra-curricular activities they’ll probably be involved in. I have learned relatively early in my life that those things pale in comparison to the One Thing that eternally matters, and I would cast all my elaborate planning aside for them to know and believe this in their hearts, minds, and souls.

For those of you who hold the same beliefs that I do, I hope to encourage you likewise. We hope and plan and do our best for our families, but always with the eternal things in mind. In the end, nothing else matters.

13 responses to “Don’t Plan So Much”

  1. Diana says:

    This post sums up why I admire your mom and treasure her friendship so much.