Hotdog Buns, Peanut Butter, and Jelly

I was a Girl Scout for only a couple of years, but I did learn how to pitch a tent from my parents.

We did quite a bit of camping when I was a preteen and were able to travel all over the country

on a pretty tight budget. What a blessing it was to see so many amazing places.

On one of those trips, we were heading to the Grand Canyon. For those of you who have road-

tripped out west, you know there are long stretches between civilization.
If you didn’t have something you needed, you learned to get creative—or make do with what you had.

We arrived at our campsite in the dark after a long day of driving. We were pitching the tent and

attempting to make dinner—both a little tricky in the dark. The plan was simple: get to camp, set

up, and have hotdogs for dinner.

Nice plan.

But one thing after another happened, and before I knew it, we were sitting in our tent eating

peanut butter and jelly sandwiches… on hotdog buns… right before bed.

Things don’t always go as planned.

As a preteen, this was a good life lesson for me—learning flexibility and gratitude for what I did

have. Sure, a warm, sizzling hotdog in a fluffy bun around a campfire would have been amazing.

But that wasn’t what God had planned.

It was a simple reminder that my plans—our plans—are not always the plans.

Isaiah 55:8–9 tells us:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

neither are your ways my ways,”

declares the Lord.

“As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are my ways higher than your ways

and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

Now, as a mom of three—with one being a preteen—I pause to ask myself an important

question: How do I react when my plans aren’t going the way I hoped or expected?

Am I modeling a faith that shows I am not in control—and that God’s plans are better than mine

—even when life looks different than I imagined?

The summer of 2025, our family moved to an entirely different side of the city. Houston is big. It can

take an hour (often longer) to get from one side to the other. With any move comes change—

shifting plans, adjusted dreams, stretched relationships, and unknown doors.

Even in that season of leaving and going, I was able to help my preteen on hard days.
And in my tearful moments, he was able to help me - too.

One of the most freeing experiences is releasing control—taking the focus off myself and

handing it to the One who can do far more than I ever could.
Sadness, confusion, and fear come and go when plans change and new seasons begin,
But God remains good, faithful, and present.

In Genesis and Exodus, we see stories of Jacob, Joseph, and Moses—God calling them out of

what was familiar and into new seasons. His provision is evident along the journey, and His

purpose reaches far beyond what they could see in the moment.

When I read these stories, I’m encouraged by the thread God was intentionally weaving. The

hard part is that I can’t always see that thread in my own story while I’m living it.

That’s where trust comes in.

Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

Lord, may I have faith to trust Your plans even when mine change.

May I walk Your way and not my own.

And may I model this way of living for my preteen and family to follow.

Amen.