For I know the plans I have for you

to prosper you
not to harm you
to give you hope and a future.
Jeremiah 29:11

I had always taken this verse to be stated broadly to be inclusive for all who hear it -- now I wonder. Perhaps it is stated as God has His plans for us. He plans for good and hope -- the details are tossed about in the free will of humanity.
Because of free will (my own and that of others) - I have damaged lives, burned bridges, and lost friends. I don't think God's plan was in the first domino falling, so where could we go from there? God may not plan the specifics for my path (and its crossings with others) from here -- His plans are not to harm me. Perhaps then in this fallen world it would be completely impossible to step only in the steps that God may have planned for us, those paths are in Eden. Since the fall there has always been elements inherent with life on earth ready to knock us out of step. Perhaps God does not plan our next step but instead teaches us in his ways and then allows us to determine our footing. So then I cannot at this next fork in the road, choose 'incorrectly'. Whichever way I step God has promised to prosper me, not harm me, and to continue to give hope and a future.
In this apparent ambiguity is the hope of glory and the offering of peace that comes with knowing that come what may it will all work together for good.

This photo is taken from the top (I think) of an inactive (I hoped) volcano in northern Tanzania. We had each put on all the clothes we had and we were laying about giggling (as quietly as possible because of the buffalo) and watching the sun go down. We laughed so we wouldn't cry and the large lumps of grass and the rocks beneath us became increasingly funny as we each found that there would be no comfortable position to sleep in. We had hiked to this side of a hill (perhaps the edge of the mouth of the volcano) to watch for the buffalo that would come to drink in the pond below us. I think we were supposed to be quiet for two reasons - both of them being buffalo. One - the buffalo might get scared away. Two - the buffalo might come and trample us. The hike had been strenuous and Sheryl (my sister) had had difficulty breathing from the very beginning of the four hour hike. She had rested frequently and at sunset was giggling with the rest of us at the long night ahead of us. When we had rearranged our day packs at the bottom of the 'hill' I had noticed my inhaler in the pocket of my backpack. At times my lungs seem to seize up in response to (rather unknown) environmental triggers and I cough and have problems getting oxygen. Sheryl had not needed an inhaler for her asthma for more than 10 years and had not brought one with her.
At about 11:30 at night she woke me (or I woke because of the large lump of grass that was in the middle of my back) not able to breathe. She had been struggling for a long time and was beginning to panic. She could take air in, but she was continuing to feel short of breath. She stated that she did not feel cold, but was shaking nearly convulsively. Shooting pains were going down her arms and she said it felt like there was a boa constrictor around her chest. I only knew that in the television commercial that once played for asthma attacks the little kids states that it feels like an elephant sitting on your chest and the TV picture was of a gulping goldfish. I figured that elephant sitting on you and boa constrictors were close enough to the same thing. Immediately I knew she was in trouble. It was the middle of the night, she had not been doing anything vigorous, and said that she had not been cold - so if nothing had brought the attack on - how were we going to stop it? I fished out my inhaler and told her that if it helped she could use it as often as necessary.
She did - about every fifteen minutes. The inhaler allowed her to get air in and the convulsions stopped, but she was not actually gaining control. Since she said that she had not felt cold I was not convinced the cold triggered it. I was terrified. There was no way to get her down the mountain in the dark and I did not know how much was in my inhaler. I had never used it every 10 to 15 minutes before. I knew that if she panicked there would be little chance to get her to get breathing under control. Praying I thought of the off chance that I had my inhaler with me - but I cried out to God that having it was not enough, she needed to be breathing - now.
We lay there whispering, each trying not to scare the other. We could hear the buffalo and I stated that they weren't buffalo, but frogs. She finally said that it was all she could do to keep from 'freaking out' and I went to get Steve. Steve is a doctor, but I didn't know what he would be able to do on top of a volcano with no supplies. He asked about allergies and if she was cold. In the end, he ended up sleeping next to her (she had been on the outside edge) and the increased warmth seemed enough to allow her to begin to breath normally. He said that she did use the inhaler two or three more times still at 15 minute intervals.

That night I felt more terror than I ever have before. The closest way to describe it would perhaps be that my heart caved in on itself and I began to lose hope. The next morning when we all woke up and Sheryl was still with me I have never felt so relieved. I was also grateful. Grateful that I had my inhaler (that I hadn't needed) and that I had seen where it was right before we left. I was also grateful that while God may have plans for us that are to provide a future and a hope, there are times that these plans are evidenced in minute happenings, chances, and coincidences. It was by chance that I had my inhaler with me and I am convinced that it was by that same chance that we still have Sheryl with us.

When I took this picture of Sheryl as we hiked down the next morning, my eyes teared and I thanked God for her standing in front me - beautiful and breathing.