what if you aren't doing what you expected?

Growing up, I took French all the way through school and on into college. In elementary school it was because it was available--the high school French teacher would visit the elementary classes once a week and do mini lessons, mostly greetings and counting. In high school and college, though, I continued taking French for one very specific reason: it was a language spoken across Africa in many different countries, and I thought one day I would find myself in that mission field, living in a village way off the map, teaching about Jesus.

I loved missions. I drank up any story I could find about people who had spent time in missions. I loved when missionaries would visit our church. I loved hearing their stories about when they first realized God was calling them to the mission field, to a life following Him across the world. I just knew that one day I would stand before a church and share the story of how I was called and how I followed God on an amazing adventure to the middle of nowhere.

The thing is, that call never came. Despite my plans and all the hints I dropped to God, that is apparently not His plan for me.

For a long time, I've struggled with trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing for God. It's not because I think that works save us. I fully believe that salvation is a gift from God and doesn't depend on me. At the same time, though, I believe that our lives should show that we are followers of God. Our lives are supposed to produce fruit. As James wrote,

"In the same way, faith by itself,
if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.
But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.”
Show me your faith without deeds,
and I will show you my faith by my deeds."
(James 2:18)

Or from Paul's letter to the believers in Ephesus:

 "For we are the product of His hand,
heaven’s poetry etched on lives,
created in the Anointed, Jesus,
to accomplish the good works God arranged long ago."
(Ephesians 2:10, VOICE)

 I know God has a plan for my life, things He planned for me to do. I can look back on my life--on the things I see as failures--and see how God orchestrated even those "failures" to lead me to where I am now. I can see His protection, how He steered me away from certain things that would have made my life very different than it is today.

But there's still part of me that is afraid I'm not measuring up, not finding that thing that God has planned for me. There's a fear that keeps a hold on me, whispering in my ear that I'm missing God's will for my life, that when I stand before Him one day, He's going to ask me, "What did you do with the gifts I gave you?"

...and I won't have an answer.

Part of it is probably just the insecurity I've battled my whole life. If you haven't learned more about me through my writing than you would ever really want to know, here's another--I feel like I'm a jack of all trades and master of none. I will try just about anything new and I love developing new skills, but I can't remember ever feeling like I was truly good at any of them. I see the flaws in everything I do, even if someone else is telling me good things. I'm always trying to measure up to some invisible standard (usually one I've arbitrarily set for myself), some idea of what it means to succeed, and I keep falling short.

Another part of it, possibly the biggest and most frustrating part to me, is my own pride. I have a hard time with the mundane. I've watched so many people in my life do amazing things to further God's kingdom. I spent my childhood thinking I would follow in their footsteps, that I would be instrumental in leading people to Christ. I've written about this before; I obviously haven't mastered this lesson yet: this life isn't about me.

But if I'm not called to do what I see as mighty, amazing things to further God's kingdom, who am I to say that I'm not doing what God has planned for me?

There are a few verses I have written on index cards that I carry around in my wallet, verses that remind me of how I should view some of the things I struggle with. One of them is this:

"So the Eternal One, who is the Holy One and Maker of Israel, says,
'Are you really going to question Me about what will happen to My children,
or lecture Me about what I should do with the ones I made with My own hands?
It is I who made the very ground on which you stand,
I who shaped the human beings who walk around on it.
I pulled the sky and heavens taut with My own hands,
and organized the army of stars that march across the night sky.'"
(Isaiah 45:11-12)

So once again, and probably many more times because these lessons are hard for me to learn,  I humble myself before the King and pray:

"God, sometimes I forget that You are God--and I am not. I get so wrapped up in trying to do all the things to somehow show You that I'm worth the sacrifice You made. I try so hard to prove myself, to do something. So Eternal One, who is the Holy One and Maker of Israel, please forgive me for trying to tell You what my life should look like. Thank You for Your promises. Thank You for Your plan, and that You have said that You determined my role in Your plan long ago. Forgive my lack of trust, and help me to let go of the plans I have for my own life and instead follow You. Help me to stop trying to make sure I measure up to some earthly standard and instead to see that in Your mercy, You have called me to You. You--the Creator and Master of the Universe--have made me Your child, and You don't require anything in return. You know that I can never measure up to the standard of perfection, but You love me anyway. I'm sorry for continually trying to tell You what to do with me, for trying to control my life instead of leaving it in Your hands. Help me to trust."