We plan.
We map out tomorrow 
as though it belongs to us.

We build timelines in our heads,
draft futures with trembling hands,
create backup plans
for our backup plans,
as though certainty
was something we could manufacture.

We plan so confidently
it almost feels like
we created the world ourselves.

And when one plan collapses,
we reach for another.
Then another.
Because surely
something must work.

But plans fail.
Sometimes.
Most times.

At times that feels like all the time.
Not because we are foolish,
but because we only see fragments.

Tiny pieces.
Unfinished corners.
Half of a picture
we keep trying to complete ourselves.

Still, we persist.
Human beings are resilient like that.

We wrestle doors that refuse to open,
force meaning out of silence,
try to understand everything
before we learn to trust.

No one plans for heartbreak.
No one prepares for disappointment.
Yet life still unfolds
outside the borders of our expectations.

And maybe that is the mercy of God.
Because while we panic over pieces,
He holds the whole design.
The full picture.
The original blueprint of our lives.

Nothing catches him by surprise.
No delay.
No detour.
No broken season.

And slowly,
I am learning
that peace does not come
from figuring everything out.

Peace comes from trusting
the One who knows it all.

It is not easy.
Not easy to stop 
analyzing every circumstance.
Not easy to loosen our grip
from the need to understand.

But trust was never meant
to begin with certainty.
You learn to trust God
by trusting Him.
By leaning on Him
instead of your own understanding.

By acknowledging Him
not only for what He has done,
but for who He is
even when heaven feels quiet.

That is surrender.
To place your life into His hands
without demanding to see the entire plan first.

To rest,
not because you understand the journey,
but because you trust
the Architect.