Grand plans.... I have them. I have told myself I am crazy for them, I have hid them from some because I thought they'd call me lost. Or worse, crush them under their disbelief. I have written my grand plans down, stacks of journals, thousands of pages wear the inked markings of this soul territory, new decades have turned whilst I was writing, I have uttered my dreams in prayers, cried out and demanded them in prayer, then on my knees, humbled, I have begged and wept praying, praying.
Please God show me the way to pray, let me be led by divine will and to know when to surrender my own.
I have bled them on top of the mountain, I have woken to the dawning of a new day and thought, perhaps,
"I am mistaken."
Or I'm just crazy. Or maybe I'm just dumb.
But I'm not dumb, not about everything at least, and I don't mind being crazy. I have grand ideals, and though I've tried to talk myself out of them for decades, for as long as I have had memories.
I wonder now, if I don't try talking myself out of them and I acknowledge, against all sanity, that my grand plans are real and not just craziness, then doesn't that make everything else I've been doing, everything else I've been thinking- the crazy part?
And the grand plan was the only truth all along, and the crazy making was in the covering it up, the disbelief, and the doubt.