I’ve always wanted to know God’s will for my life. That’s never been the problem. The problem is I can’t seem to hear it clearly. Or maybe I hear it but second-guess it until it sounds like static. I pray. I journal. I think about it from every angle. Then I overthink it until I’m too afraid to make any move at all. What if I choose the wrong thing? The wrong job. The wrong school for the kids. The wrong investment. The wrong direction entirely. One bad step and suddenly I’ve wrecked the whole plan… at least that’s what I tell myself.
And here’s the thing…living that way is utterly exhausting. It makes me feel like God’s will is some hidden riddle, and I’m the only person in the room who can’t figure it out. I want clarity so badly that I end up missing what’s right in front of me. I’m so focused on what’s next that I don’t even notice how I’m showing up (or not), right now.
Don’t Underestimate the Doom Scroll
It was 11 p.m., and I was finally able to mindlessly scroll on TikTok without being asked for a snack three seconds in. The house was quiet. The kids were asleep. My phone’s glow was the only light in the room, and my brain was eagerly slipping into “nothing mode.” Swipe. Swipe. Swi….. a 34 minute-long TikTok video? How? (That was my first thought…) I didn’t even know that was a thing?! Normally, I’m swiping away on anything that’s longer than 15 seconds thanks to my ADHD. But in that particular moment, I was INSTANTLY engaged. Within seconds, it felt like God had reached right through the screen and stopped me mid-spiral. In my spirit, I could almost hear Him whisper, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.” And the truth is… He’s right. I’ve been tangled up in my own overcomplication of His will for far too long. 34 minutes later, I was sobbing. This was the most impactful message I have EVER (and I do mean, EVER) heard in all 38 years of my life. And I’ve heard A LOT of sermons.
For years, I’ve acted like His plan for my life was a secret combination lock, and I’ve been terrified of turning it the wrong way. I’ve treated every decision—big or small—like it might be the one that changes everything, for better or worse. But maybe God isn’t up there holding my life like a giant bubble, ready to pop if I mess up. Maybe His will isn’t about the perfect thing I’m supposed to do, but about the person I’m becoming while I do the imperfect, everyday stuff. Maybe before He cares about what’s on my calendar, He cares about the state of my heart. And maybe, just maybe, I’ve been missing that all along because I was too busy obsessing over the “what” and not paying attention to the “who.”
When I stop to think about it, His will for me probably isn’t hiding in some big, dramatic, future assignment. It’s right here, woven into the most ordinary parts of my day. It’s in how I treat my boys when we’re running late and I’m tempted to lose my patience (usually Sunday morning, trying to get to Chruch amiright?!). It’s in the way I speak to my husband when we’re not seeing eye-to-eye. It’s in how I run my business when no one is watching, or how I choose to spend my time when the house is finally quiet. His will is in those little, hidden places—places that never make it into the “big life decision” conversations, but actually shape me far more than I realize.
Weirdly enough, that’s both comforting and convicting. Comforting because it means I’m not “missing” His will while I wait for some giant sign in the sky, or when I’m begging to audibly hear His voice. Convicting because if His will is for me to be holy today…set apart in my thoughts, my words, and my actions… then I can’t use “waiting on clarity” as my excuse to stay stuck. Here’s the NEON FLASHING SIGN: Holiness doesn’t wait for me to figure out the five-year plan. It asks me to live differently right here, in the middle of my messy, unpredictable, everyday life. That’s a lot harder to avoid than chasing some distant calling, because it’s staring me in the face every morning… every afternoon, every evening, every “but I just need a drink of water” for the 10th time before they close their sweet little eyes for the night.
Stop Underestimating God’s Goodness
So maybe I don’t need the exact answer to my repeated, “what is my calling!?”, the audible answer to, “is it really that important to send the kids to private school” or the “guaranteed” opportunity before I make a move. Maybe my next right step isn’t going to look like a cinematic leap of faith; it might just look like choosing patience instead of snapping back with a snarky reply, or sighing out of frustration. Choosing faith instead of fear. Choosing integrity instead of cutting corners. Choosing to love the people right in front of me as if that’s the whole point. Because maybe… it is.
I still don’t have all the answers, and I still overthink more than I’d like to admit. But I’m starting to believe something I didn’t before: God’s will for my future will unfold as I live faithfully in the present. I don’t have to map out the whole journey. I don’t have to get every step right on the first try. I just have to walk today’s mile with Him, trusting that’s exactly where I’m meant to be.
