Plans. What Plans?

I’m a firm believer in setting goals, because goals are the foundation of hope. Achieving goals takes effort, which usually requires some amount of planning. Otherwise, opportunities are missed. One thing I’ve done a lot of thinking about here is that idea of planning and hope.

People’s resilience manifests istelf in situations in which plans are dashed. Since I’ve been here, countless plans have been made, but few of those happenings have been realized. For example, when spending an afternoon with a friend in town, it began to rain too much and was getting late (as in 5 pm)—too late to travel since it would be a good time after dark, by the time I reached home. These two factors made travel dangerous, so we were forced to change other plans and stay in a motel and travel home in the morning. Another time, feeling unwell and on my way to a doctor to get medicine turned into a two-day trip to Nakuru—hence I did not teach lessons that day or the next. No water flowing from any hydrants or faucets means carrying water in buckets from elsewhere and doing less cleaning, so as to stretch the little water as far as possible. Also, plans have vanished as too much time elapses waiting for someone to arrive.

Most of the time I simply except the changes, but at times I get frustrated, wondering, “Why can’t things just work out the way they are supposed to? Can things not be done a little more efficiently?” Yet I remain amazed, “How can these people stay so happy and hopeful, when time and time again their expectations and hopes are crushed?” It doesn’t seem like it’s worth planning and looking forward to anything. And then I remember that hope is what dreams are made of, what drives us and makes the tough times easier.

I was visiting with a woman the other day, who was describing her timber home and says although it would be nice to have a more permanant solid structure, now is not the time to create one, because who knows what will happen in the future? Just as she says her home is not permanent, plans here definitely are not. But then, nothing really is permanent, is it?