The two wonderful people I live with—my wife and her father—are both most comfortable with a fixed schedule… a predetermined routine. They keep journals and calendars at their finger tips and operate according to the plans they carefully made days, even weeks, in advance. Spontaneity is not only avoided, its considered downright foolish. If their prescribed schedule breaks down, they instantly begin to scramble for a new plan. Like nuns at a night club, you can sense their discomfort as they search for an unfinished project, anything that might keep them busy.
The apple didn’t fall far from the tree in this father-daughter duo, and both enjoy a peaceful quality of life that often eludes me. They are selfless people who consistently consider others’ needs above their own. I’m often the benefactor of the fruit of their scheduled routines. They are pleasant to live with. Some might think they are slaves to their schedule, but I prefer to see them as voluntary servants to their schedule. Whereas they are quietly resigned to the activity that’s been scheduled, I wrestle with whether I “feel” like doing what’s on the schedule.
I’ve decided my problem is that I’m a schedule-phobe. A predetermined schedule strikes me as a restriction. If you’re claustrophobic, you might better understand what I’m describing. When I learn that my day has been pre-arranged, I feel like a claustrophobe must feel who’s being forced to board a submarine. My stomach tightens and I lose my peace—like the reoccurring dream where I’m back at my high school and everyone is turning in an important project that I had no idea had ever been assigned. It’s always been like this for me.
It isn’t that I don’t enjoy the events that are scheduled, or that I’m unhappy—it’s just that I balk and clinch up when I discover I’m “scheduled.” I once went to King’s Island with a youngster who insisted on riding the roller coaster with me, but couldn’t push herself to step into the coaster. She’d raise her foot, lean forward and then suddenly pivot the opposite direction. When I’d say, “You don’t have to go, you know?” she’d cry and say, “But I want to!”
Yea… I know… I get it.
I’ve given this a lot of thought, wondering if I’m weird or broken. I wish I could embrace scheduled events and be more like Marilyn, who holds her schedule like it’s a fluffy puppy licking her face. I take some consolation in the fact that I’m creative… even artsy… by nature. Try as I might, my creative whims refuse to be forced into a prescribed schedule. I do my best work off the clock. I want to accomplish more, write more, study more. I deeply desire to tell more people that I love them and aspire to be more expressive in my relationships, I just can’t do it on cue.
There: got that off my chest! I’m betting there are a number of you who feel the same way. I’m a very happy person generally speaking. I just take no solace in a schedule. I like to wing it; shoot from the hip, improvise. If you’re a schedule person, you’re shaking your head, thinking. “This guy needs a good therapist.” But if you relate to my aversion to schedules, I hope you will take consolation in knowing there are others out here just like us.
Truth is, we are each made so incredibly different and none of us are an exact replica of the other. I believe God delights in our uniqueness. I’ve become convinced my propensity to spurn schedules is not a broken characteristic, but one of a multitude of God-given characteristics that makes me who I am—just as Marilyn’s comfort with scheduling is God-given.
We are more than just “types” of people. Each of us are not merely one type or another; we are highly nuanced creatures who, when surrendered to the Son of God, find ourselves fully realized for exactly who we are intended to be. When we see ourselves as tiny masterpieces of God’s creativity we are spiritually elevated to a level of purpose beyond ourselves.
Take heart, people. You are uniquely and purposefully made. Of course, we all have hang-ups and experience a certain degree of brokenness, but God takes tremendous delight in each one of us! The Bible says so—
“You (God) know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something.” Psalm 139:15
The LORD says: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.” Jeremiah 31:3