N O N F I C T I O N 67 “I have measured out my life in coffee spoons,” says the narrator of “Prufrock.” My impulse is to do the same. Plan each inch of the future. Demand my life in even doses of happiness. But I believe in a God who measures the heavens with His hands; He is too big for my little spoons. The disintegration of my expectations is just what I need to blow my coffee off its saucer; and maybe there is relief in watching my dreams soak into the carpet. When my assumptions diminish to a dark smudge on the recesses of my brain, I begin to hope for other things, unexpected things. I return to James and imagine a slight “I told you so” in his voice. But he then advises, “You ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that’” (James 4:14-15, NIV). I hear it as an invitation to dangle my dreams by a string, willing to watch Someone wiser cut the string while I wait patiently for something new. There is a thrill in the unknown future when I ease my grip on my expectations. When our dreams fail us, when our security collapses, when the spoons we’ve measured our lives with turn out to be too small, we can still enjoy the unexpected as it comes. I will cross my legs, pinkie held delicately away from the cup, anticipating an unexpected intrusion. I will revel in the mystery of the unexpected. Why, I do not even know what will happen tomorrow. I won’t bother to measure out my life. He holds the coffee. We will live and do this or that.
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