God’s Providence over Our Plans
God’s Providence over Our Plans
I recently read a blog post by another Christian writer, in which he shared some advice he wished he could offer to his younger self.
This is what he wrote: “Figure out what you want in life, and start working toward those goals as early as possible.”
He went on to explain how he’d dillydallied a bit when he was younger, and consequently, he feels that his life was less productive overall than it could have been, if he’d had a singular focus early on.
I understand his logic, and on one hand, it resonates with me and some of the thoughts I’ve had over past several years.
I’m 35 years old, and I’m just getting started in a writing career — a career that, had I realized, as a young person, this was how I’d spend the later years of my life, I likely would have made some different choices earlier on. I certainly would’ve chosen a different college major. And maybe if I had, I would be further along in my career, and I would have more to show for it.
However, I can’t help thinking, had I known I wanted to become a writer as a young person, and had I pursued that goal wholeheartedly, that everything else in my life would look different as well. And perhaps, I wouldn’t be able to look back on my journey and see how it’s God’s providence that’s been working all things together for good in my life (Romans 8:28) all these years — not because I planned well, but in spite of my lack of planning.
Young me didn’t set out to become a writer; but looking back on my life, I can see how God was putting the pieces in place long before I knew the plans He had for me…
A timeline that testifies to God’s providential care
Fair warning, the next several paragraphs are going seem very disjointed. Bear with me, though, because that’s the whole point. Reading these events — or even having lived them — in their actual order of occurrence, they seem entirely disjointed. But in hindsight, it’s hard not to see how each piece fits together perfectly, paving the path that led me to where I am today.
When I was about 10 years old, my school went on a field trip to a writing workshop led by Christian fiction author Bill Meyers. It was fantastic! He was fantastic! And for a few short weeks of my young life afterward, I remember thinking, “That’s what I want to do when I grow up! I want to write books.”
And then, I forgot about that dream, for a long, long time...
When I was about 13, my dad took me to the library to check out some books for the weekend. I wandered off for a few minutes, and returned, much to his chagrin, with a movie (Apollo 13) rather than a book. He mused for a moment, then walked back over to the shelf of movies with me and started browsing. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “You can watch Apollo 13, if you watch this first,” and he pulled a cheesy instructional video titled something like How to Clean House Like a Professional! from the boring end of the shelf. “Dad, that’s so unfair! It’s not like I’m going to become a professional housekeeper! Why in the world would I need to watch that?” He was resolute, however, and as I was equally resolved to watch Apollo 13, I spent that afternoon watching the two-hour tutorial on cleaning.
Ironically, when I was 14, a family friend called my mom and asked if my older sister or I would be interested in a job: cleaning her house once a week. My older sister was already employed, so guess who got the gig? My first steady job was in housekeeping.
My junior year of high school, I took a writing class at the local community college with Professor Heather Elko. I don’t remember all of my teachers’ names, but I can’t forget hers. I’m pretty sure she disliked me, but she was brilliant! I had two semesters with Mrs. Elko. And, if it’s possible, I think she disliked me more the second semester than the first. But I went from not knowing proper essay format my first day of class to improving so much that Mrs. Elko questioned whether or not someone might have been helping me write my papers. I wasn’t cheating; she was just that good of a writing teacher. And, as it turned out, I had a knack for writing — I just needed someone like Mrs. Elko to help me discover and develop that gifting. By the end of my second semester with Mrs. Elko, I knew that I wanted to spend my life writing, in some capacity — maybe as a hobby or a ministry. I didn’t yet realize the fullness of that vision, though.
My senior year of high school, my family switched churches, and I landed in a brand new youth group just months before graduating high school. It was a smaller youth group, at the time, and the church didn’t have a young adults group; so I was allowed to stay in the youth group after graduating, in the capacity of a “helper.” As a result, I never actually left that youth group — not until last year, that is. (I’ll explain a little later.) Also, shortly after graduating, I started nannying for a family who went to our new church.
I floundered a bit those first few years after graduating high school. I was working, and taking classes to earn my AA at the local community college. But there’s so much pressure, at that point in your life, to figure out your “calling” and to choose the “right” major and/or the “right” career path. I didn’t feel particularly called to anything (besides youth ministry), and I had no idea what career I’d like to pursue, or what I’d even be good at.
In an attempt to help me narrow some things down, my dad suggested I should reach out to a few people whose jobs seemed interesting to me, and ask if I could shadow them for a day. I started — and ended — with him. He and his friend had recently started a software development company, so I spent the day observing and talking with some of the programmers. My key takeaways were that programming is a non-social job (big check for this introvert), that it pays decently (check), and that it’s always going to be a skill in high demand (check). By the end of the day, I’d made up my mind: I was going to become a computer programmer.
I applied to exactly one college — Florida State University, where my older sister was already attending — and thank the good Lord, I got in! (On an aside, the year before, I’d started dating someone who was already away at another university, which meant we rarely saw one another. It also meant that I wasn’t looking at any of the guys I met on campus as potential marriage prospects, because I was dating someone already.)
My first semester at FSU was incredibly rough, and I nearly failed two classes (calculus and physics) — both of which were essential to a computer programming major, and both of which had higher level classes I was going to be required to take. It didn’t take long to realize I’d made a terrible mistake… and so, I met with my academic advisor, who suggested an alternative major: computer criminology. It required lower level math classes, and no more science classes; and she confirmed that I’d be able to use all the credits I’d already earned toward this new major. I was sold!
Toward the beginning of my second semester at FSU, I had a depressive episode that nearly ended my life… but God…
Because the software my dad was developing was being designed for law enforcement use, he had been testing the software with our local law enforcement agencies. That connection, along with my change in majors, opened the door for me to intern with my local police department the summer between my junior and senior year. I’d already decided, by this point, that I wanted to pursue a career in local law enforcement, with the goal of ultimately working as a detective.
At the start of my last semester at FSU, I met with my academic advisor for a routine check-in. I’d expected her to tell me, “Congrats! Everything looks good! You’re on track to graduate in May!” Instead, she said, “Ohhhhh nooo… It looks like we missed something here…” Apparently, in my last two visits with my academic advisor, we’d somehow overlooked the fact that I was missing elective credits. “We can fix this,” she said, with an air of determination, “but it’s not going to be easy. You’ll have to add one more class to your schedule.” I was already taking five classes that semester, but I wasn’t about to land myself in summer school! So, since the elective didn’t have to coincide with my major, I chose to take the one that sounded like the most fun to me: creative writing.
Creative writing was, in fact, a lot of fun! It was also, however, a lottttt of work. And halfway through the semester, I was drowning in homework and getting very little sleep. So I met with my academic advisor one last time. “Which class are you struggling in the most?” she asked me, and I answered. “Okay, well, my advice would be to drop that class.” My heart sank. “You can still graduate in May,” she continued, “but your graduation will be on a contingency basis. You’ll have to take and pass one more programming class online over the summer.” I didn’t love the setback, but also, it seemed like the best option. I dropped the class, and I reached out to my contacts at my hometown police department, to ask if I could intern with them for one more summer.
Three weeks before that spring semester ended, my long-term, long-distance dating relationship came to an abrupt end. I remember thinking how unfortunate the timing was. I’d met some really great guys while at FSU, but with just three weeks left on campus, and fresh out of a relationship, the odds of any of those friendships turning into something more seemed unlikely. (Not to mention, most of those guys were already dating other people by that point, and a few were even on the fast-track to marriage.)
That summer, while finishing my degree online, I got to intern under Detective Gillette, who was doing my then dream job: working in both cyber crimes and special victims. This was my chance to learn what it was going to take to achieve that goal, and also, to discover firsthand what that job would cost me (mentally, physically, emotionally, relationally, etc.). Detective Gillette didn’t sugarcoat anything, and I’m forever grateful to him for that. During drives to and from calls, he’d spout of statistics about the suicide rates and divorce rates of officers. (He was recently divorced himself, and I believe he’d lost a few buddies to suicide over the years as well.)
One day, toward the end of my internship, the detective set me up in a small room with a laptop hooked up to a copy of a hard drive taken from an actual suspect’s computer in an open cyber crimes case. “We’re going to do a training exercise,” he said. “There’s porn on that computer, and some of it’s child porn. Today, your job is to go through that entire hard drive, find and view every file, and flag all the photos and videos that contain child porn.”
Never in my life have a felt so many conflicting feelings all at once. I felt sick to my stomach. Then, intense feelings of shame and guilt crept in, despite the fact that I was simply doing my job. I felt angry and disgusted, dirty yet dutiful, and straight up sad. And then I just felt altogether numb. The whole experience — and the realization that that would become my day-to-day experience, if I pursued that career path — led me to realize, mere weeks before earning my degree in computer criminology, that I was not cut out for that job.
So, at 21 years old…
I was single, with no serious prospects.
I was practically done with college, boasting a degree I wasn’t sure I’d be able to use anymore. (Not in any way I’d been hoping to use it, at least.)
And I still had yet to figure out what I was supposed to be doing with my life.
Then everything took a bit of an unexpected turn, at the end of the summer...
I got a phone call from the woman whose children I’d been nannying. She’s an attorney, and she was in need of a receptionist. It was only supposed to be a temporary position, until I figured out my next steps; but I ended up working at that law firm for the next eight years. (Incidentally, they handled criminal law matters, which I was reasonably well-versed in, thanks to my chosen major.)
And shortly after coming home that summer, I’d met a really kind man named Nathan who’d started volunteering with the youth group at my hometown church. We’d become fast friends, but I hadn’t thought of him as anything more, because he was dating someone else at the time. Then they broke up, and he asked me on a date… and another one… and another one… and eventually, he asked me to marry him, and the rest is history…
We got married at 23, and both of us continued serving in youth ministry together. Ultimately, Nathan felt led to become a youth pastor. Anyone who’s walked that path probably knows it’s not always a financially solvent job. But my job, at the time, was. So for a few years, my well-paid job made it possible for Nathan to go all-in with youth ministry, even before he was technically hired as a pastor.
It’s funny, now, how things have flipped…
My passion for writing grew over the past decade. My mind was becoming overcrowded with stories and ideas, begging to be allowed to spill out onto pages. But a full-time job at a law firm, coupled with youth ministry on weekends and evenings, left little room for writing.
About six years ago, I started toying with the possibility of pursuing a career in writing. Five years ago, on a whim, I attended a writing workshop. Later that week, after praying about it and talking with Nathan, I turned in my “two weeks notice” at the firm. After eight years on staff, I left the firm just before I turned 30, though they graciously agreed to let me continue cleaning their office (a side gig I’d picked up the year before for the extra pay).
The first several years of my writing career were spent finding my footing and learning how to navigate the writing world. It’s not the most financially solvent career path, either. About one year in, I took on cleaning our church, where Nathan was pastoring, to help make ends meet.
In 2021, I responded to a job listing seeking someone who “loves to write and has a heart for youth” (check, and check), which resulted in my first paid job as a writer, co-writing youth curriculum for Word of Life.
In the spring of 2022, both Nathan and I had a strong sense that God was calling us to step out of our comfort zone and the church we’d been a part of for our entire married life, which also meant that he’d be stepping down as their youth pastor (though again, I was graciously allowed to continue cleaning at the church). We didn’t know what exactly was next, or where we were going, because the only clear word we heard was, “Go.” So we went…
God led us to a new church for that next season of our life, where we joined a small group that became like family to us. Each week, we’d come together to break bread, study the Bible, and pray for one another. Nathan was searching for a job at the time, and over a few months, he’d all but exhausted his options. It’s not that he wasn’t a good hire; he was a great hire! But it seemed, in every job for which he’d apply, they’d have “just filled that role.” Some of our friends from small group became aware of our circumstances, and began praying that God would provide a job for Nathan. The next week, one of our friends from small group — one who hadn’t been there the week before, when we’d shared about our need — approached Nathan, and said, “I heard you’re looking for a job? You seem like a competent fellow. My company’s hiring. You want an interview?”
That interview turned into a financially solvent job, which turned into three promotions (each with a raise) over the course of one year, making it possible for me to stop cleaning at the church this past summer, so that I could focus on writing full-time.
Do you see, now, how every disjointed piece of this timeline was an integral part of a narrative far too involved for the planning of a mere mortal like me?
It makes for a terrible story, in the sense that it’s way too long and it’s overly complicated! If I’d written this story, safe to say, I’d have written it differently…
But it also makes for a wonderful story, because it’s impossible to ignore the recurring themes, woven in and out, all throughout the narrative (writing, cleaning, youth ministry, relationships, criminal justice, financial provision, etc.), and how each right step as well as each misstep led me to this exact place.
I can’t recount this story, as is, without acknowledging that a very Good Shepherd was clearly leading this sheep, every step of the way; and though I had no clue most of the time, He always knew exactly where we were going…
God’s providence over our plans
Imagine that I could go back and tell my younger self to, “figure out what you want in life, and start working toward those goals as early as possible.”
Imagine if I’d realized, at age ten, after attending that writing workshop with Bill Meyers, that I actually knew, then, exactly what I wanted to do with for the rest of my life…
I probably wouldn’t have “wasted” eight years of my life working at a law firm, or switched majors partway through college, or ever have gone to college for computer criminology. I wouldn’t have bothered to intern at the police department, nor mastered the art of “professional cleaning.” I might have never gotten involved in youth ministry after high school, because I probably would’ve been preoccupied with writing books. There are so many wonderful people whom I never would have gotten the chance to know, and so many “random” experiences I would have completely missed out on — many of whom and which shaped my life. And saddest of all, I likely never would’ve met Nathan.
It’s not entirely bad advice, to try to figure out what you want in life, and to start working toward those goals as early as possible. But I’m not sure it’s particularly good advice, either — especially from a Christian perspective…
The Bible teaches that we can’t always trust our wants to be good or healthy or godly (Jeremiah 17:9). This is true, always, but perhaps especially when we’re younger and less mature, spiritually or otherwise.
Likewise, from Scripture, we should know better than to put too much stock in our plans, because, “A person’s heart plans his way, but the LORD determines his steps” (Proverbs 16:9, CSB).
Is it worthwhile to have dreams or goals or plans for our futures? Sure! Dreams, goals, and plans can help us to figure out our next steps and to navigate our nows…
But at the end of the day, while those dreams and goals and plans might drive us forward, they don’t determine our futures. God’s providential care for us does, and that should cause each one of us to breathe a huge sigh of relief! Why? Because that means you and I don’t have to figure it all out!
All God is asking of you and me is that we’d faithfully follow Him, and that we’d trust that, even in our faithless missteps along the way, He’ll never stop proving Himself faithful (2 Timothy 2:13)!
It’s not on us to determine the next best step, every single second of every single day! As we seek to follow wherever God leads (and even in the moments when we’re stubbornly doing our own thing), we can move forward, trusting that our Good Shepherd can and will redirect us as many times as necessary to bring us to the exact place where we’re supposed to end up! (I think, perhaps, this is what the psalmist David meant when he wrote, “thy rod and thy staff they comfort me” (Psalm 23).)
I’ve heard it said that the journey matters as much, if not more than the destination. That certainly rings true, in my life. And I’m convinced that our best plans for our lives will always pale in comparison to God’s providential care for us.
So, if you’re feeling like you need to hurry up and plan your life out…
The pressure is off, my friend! Just faithfully stride forward, trusting that God’s in the details. Because He is.
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