“Are the tours coming together like you planned?”
It’s a question I hear about this time every year. I’ll turn to a story from a few years ago to explain how my answer’s changed over time.
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Day One of our long-awaited Mississippi River trip went precisely according to our carefully crafted plan–until we actually started riding.
Perfect weather, a beginning prayer with friends and strangers, a crash, a wonderful ride through pristine north woods country, and a meeting with Paul Bunyan and a big blue ox.
The “crash” part? That wasn’t in the plan.
We started with a parade out of Lake Itasca State Park. Monte ran beside me, attached to the handcycle. My cousin Mark, our friend Steve, and Becky cranked along on their bikes.
The plan worked perfectly for about five miles. Monte was done running, so Becky loaded him into her kid carrier/dog trailer. Unfortunately, as they headed off down a hill a car whizzed past a little too close and spooked Monte. He bolted from the trailer, dumping it and sending Becky and her bike into the ditch.
Thankfully, aside from some road rash, no serious injuries. 
What might have been a serious accident left Becky—and apparently Monte—with a bit less skin and some bumps. The remainder of the day’s ride was beautiful and uneventful. We ended the day in Bemidji at the feet of Paul Bunyan.
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I began the 1500-mile ride with grand visions of how it would happen. I visualized that first day and the days that followed in great detail. I was absolutely certain I had the whole thing figured out.
As we pulled out of Fort Collins, our friend Mark Orphan imparted one final bit of wisdom:
Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be broken.
At the time I chuckled at Mark’s impromptu Beatitude. Turns out it was the best piece of advice we received, because almost nothing happened as we thought it would.
I had clear expectations about how the ride was supposed to develop. I’m grateful that Becky and I learned to let go of those expectations and allow the ride to progress along God’s timeline.
God had a much better plan. The ride that actually happened was much better than the ride I’d planned and expected.
If you’re doing a cross-country ride, there are two ways to proceed.
You can follow THE PLAN. Get everything set up in advance and then stick to it, no matter what because, well, it’s the plan. No sightseeing, no unavoidable detours. Follow the schedule, get down the road, complete the journey, cross the finish line. Do everything within your power to make it conform to preconceived expectations.
You can establish solid processes and allow a lot of margin. You can decide, in advance, to leave space for interruptions. Because here’s the uncomfortable truth: if you look back, you’ll see that God doesn’t show up where and when we expect Him. Divine appointments happen on His calendar, not ours. We don’t get to chart the appearance of a miracle.
While we’re busy blasting down the road, we might pass by the person He wants us to meet. We may miss the miracle because we expected something smaller.
In bike rides or any other endeavor, God tends to show up at unexpected times and places. If we’re not careful we can plan Him out of our entire enterprise.
A laser focus on achieving our expectations puts God in a box and leaves no room for HOPE. Hope is a confident expectation that God will keep His promises, promises that are a good deal bigger than our puny plans.
This expectation, this hope, is so different from expectations based on our plans and perspectives. I absolutely expect God to keep His promises. I have few expectations about what that will ultimately look like. And I have no clue how it works.
Am I willing to trust, to accept the discomfort of not knowing how the entire thing will look before I begin?
Will I believe in hope? Big question, because Hope Changes What’s Possible.