My sister, Logan, had a great group of friends in high school. They did everything together, and, most of the time, I was warmly welcomed as the sixth friend. When they all went their separate ways for college, they would talk about the day when they could all move back and continue living life together. However, life wreaked havoc on their plan, as it usually does. In Logan’s case, the havoc was a handsome ROTC boy from North Carolina State University who just happened to be working at the very same Christian athletic camp in Missouri one summer. God is a God of humor.

Lo was entering her junior year of college, and her heart was far from ready to soulmate search… or so she thought. This handsome ROTC boy, Wheeler, had so beautifully wrecked her life. My sister called me at the end of that summer and said, “There is just something different about him.” A couple months later, I got to experience “different” for myself. Logan’s eyes lit up and she chuckled endlessly, imitating our dad’s contagious, belly-shaking laughter as she and Wheeler danced to Christmas music in the living room of our house. “This is different,” I thought. It was so good, so pure, and so real.

Two years later, I gained a brother; I always wanted one of those. The Army life took them first to Virginia and then to Hawaii a few months later. Their home in paradise paused Logan’s preconceived plans. She and “the girls” would not be moving back and living life together any time soon. Her life had been turned upside down, picked apart, and rearranged, and oh, how sweet it was! Through FaceTime, two hour long phone calls, and a spring break visit to see her, I watched my sister blossom into the most beautiful soul from half a world away. That handsome ROTC boy from North Carolina State University was the best havoc to have ever wrecked her life.

Last Saturday night, I found myself in tears and dialing my momma’s number. I had expectations for my 18^th year of life, plans that I knew were going to fall right into place as I claimed my home in Raleigh that fall. They did not. My mind rumbled with utter chaos, and my heart was begging God to relay his plans to me in that moment. He did not… immediately. The next morning, however, I walked into church and found my usual spot. After a good night of rest, my mind had quieted and my soul was ready to listen. Overwhelming reassurance washed over me as I sang the words, “You’re a good, good Father. It’s who You are, who You are. And I’m loved by You. It’s who I am, who I am.”

I’m loved by You. It’s who I am.

Ironically, Pastor Mike was talking about patience that morning. I’m telling you, God is a God of humor. I scribbled the words “God will use interruptions, inconveniences, and irritations to produce patience” in my little notebook. James 1:2-3 says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” It was in that moment that my mind flickered to Logan and Wheeler, a perfect picture of self-made plans wrecked by the sweet interruptions and welcomed inconveniences of God.

At (almost) 19 years old, I cannot clearly see what chaos the next day holds. Who am I to tell God how to plan my life? Who am I to tell God, the mightiest of Kings, our divine creator, that I know what is best? I am simply an impatient person, trying to become more than my own expectations. As God unfolds my own story of premeditated havoc and inconveniences, I will rest in the unwavering assurance of what I know for sure and who I know I am—today, tomorrow, yesterday, and forever. I am loved by You.