A faith reflection on surrender, schedule changes, and learning to see redirection as care
I like a plan. I like knowing what’s next, what time I’m leaving, what I’m doing, and how it’s all going to fit together.
So when something interrupts that plan, my first instinct is usually not spiritual. It’s practical. Fix it. Reroute. Get back on track.
But sometimes the interruption is the track.
Not always in a dramatic way. Sometimes it’s a small shift that feels annoying in the moment. A delayed start. A door that closes. An unexpected phone call. A last-minute “no” that I did not ask for. A quiet feeling that says, slow down.
And I’m learning (slowly) that God’s interruptions often come with kindness attached, even if they don’t feel kind at first.
Have you ever had a day where one little change messed up the whole rhythm, and you realized how tightly you were holding your plan?
The part I don’t always admit: interruptions can make me feel exposed
When my plan gets interrupted, it’s not just the schedule that changes. It’s what comes up in me.
Sometimes it exposes how much I’ve been relying on control to feel safe. How much I’ve been trying to manage outcomes. How quickly I move into “I’ll handle it” mode, instead of “God, I trust You.”
And if I’m tired or stretched thin, an interruption can feel personal. Like one more thing. Like proof I can’t keep up.
But that’s usually the moment I need to pause the most.
A shift I’m practicing: asking better questions
I used to ask, “How do I fix this?”
Now I’m trying to ask:
- What might God be protecting me from right now?
- What am I rushing past that I actually need to notice?
- Is this a redirection, or is this rest?
- If my plan didn’t work, does that mean God’s plan is still working?
Sometimes I get clarity quickly. Other times, I don’t understand it until later. But the questions help me stop reacting like the interruption is an enemy.
Not every interruption is a detour. Some are guidance.
I used to think “God’s will” would feel smooth. Like if I was aligned, everything would flow.
But a lot of times, guidance looks like resistance.
A closed door can be mercy. A delay can be timing. A change can be provision.
I’ve had moments where I was disappointed in the moment, and grateful later. Not because the interruption was fun, but because it kept me from something I didn’t see, or moved me toward something I wouldn’t have chosen on my own.
That’s what makes it hard, though. It asks for trust without the full explanation.
What surrender looks like for me in real life
For me, surrender usually looks small and unglamorous.
It looks like taking a breath before I start panic-planning my way back into control.
It looks like saying, out loud, “Okay God. I don’t love this, but I’m listening.”
It looks like choosing not to force a conversation, force a timeline, force a decision, force an outcome.
And sometimes it looks like letting the “productive” plan go, and doing the next right thing instead.
This shows up in travel more than I expected
Travel is one of the easiest places to see this, because travel rarely goes exactly as planned. Roads detour. Places close early. Weather changes. Energy levels change. Even GPS can be wrong.
I’ve learned that the trips I remember most are not the ones where everything ran perfectly. They’re the ones where I had to adjust, slow down, pay attention, and let the day unfold a little.
That same mindset has started to bleed into my everyday life too. It reminds me I can be intentional without being rigid. I can plan, but I don’t have to cling.
If you want something in a similar “hold life loosely” vein, my post Life Is the Vacation: Why I Don’t “Take Trips” ~ I Live Adventures fits right alongside this reflection.
And on the practical side, I’ll admit it, sometimes I’ll scroll my travel site like other people scroll Zillow. Not because I’m booking something right then, but because it helps me stay open to possibilities.
If you’re in an interrupted season right now
If your plans have been shifting a lot lately, I just want to say this clearly: you are not automatically “behind.”
You might be redirected. You might be protected. You might be invited to rest.
You also don’t have to pretend it feels easy. It’s okay to be disappointed and still trust God. Both can be true at the same time.
What’s one plan you’ve had recently that didn’t go the way you expected? And looking back, can you see anything God might have been doing in the middle of it?
One more thing: I’ve noticed that for some people, travel ends up becoming part of their faith story too, not just where they go, but what it teaches them. And sometimes that includes unexpected opportunities like becoming a Travel Agent or a Travel Marketing Rep. If that idea has ever crossed your mind, even briefly, I’m always happy to chat about what it can look like in real life, no pressure.
However your plans are changing right now, I hope you feel steadied, not scrambled.
Until next time, wander with me.
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