We have a saying in our family, “God’s Plan, not mine.” It was born years ago from an attempt to develop a practice of radical faith.

I was in my thirties before I understood that Big Y not having my favorite orange juice was actually something I could embrace rather than lament. OJ might seem like a trivial thing to others, but my tendency was to constantly put way too much importance on everyday matters. I saw everything in my life as happening to me rather than for me. And that perception was keeping me in victim-mode and keeping me from experiencing the joy that surrounded me every day.

Today, I try to spin every challenge:

Traffic? I guess I was supposed to spend less time with those people.

Out of Tropicana? I tried another brand and I actually like it better.

Computer dies? I must need a break.

Drove 45 minutes and the game’s canceled? Now we have the rest of the day for an adventure.

While these are silly examples, practicing my belief in God’s Plan with the small stuff has trained me to effortlessly recognize the greater purpose in life’s most difficult challenges.