“Is this what God wants for me?”
It’s the question that keeps us up late into the night or runs through our heads during morning commutes. We might ask this question when choosing a college, when interviewing for a job, or when wondering whether the place we’re planted is where we’re supposed to be.
I confronted this question often during my freshman year of college, when wavering between staying, when changing my major (yet again), and also when transferring schools. No amount of thought or worry truly convinced me that any of these steps were correct, and I felt that one wrong step would be disastrous.
When Christians face this question, we often want more than advice—we want certainty or a concrete confirmation that our actions mirror God’s desire for us. King David’s prayer in the Psalms mirrors this desire with its cry,
Teach me to do Your will, for You are my God! Let Your good Spirit lead me on level ground! (Psalm 143:10)
We often want this type of direction because a voice of fear in our heads insists that these decisions will completely alter the trajectory of our lives and vocations. This voice of fear suggests that God has one specific path that we need to follow.
Rev. Jeffrey Leininger, in his book Callings for Life, puts words to the reality of this anxious voice. He writes,
The urgency to discover and discern God’s singular, sacred, seismic purpose constantly harasses us; we’re afraid that if we miss out our lives will disintegrate into a fog of confusion and purposelessness. (P. 3)
Even people of faith can feel haunted by the idea that with one wrong step, we’d miss the calling God has for us.
Leininger offers that instead of a fearful worry, a new question can be asked; not “Is this what God wants for me?” but “Where is God working through me in the faces, places, and spaces of my life?” The great relief is that our vocations are not a riddle to solve but are found in the people we serve, the gifts we have, and the faithfulness God reveals in our daily routines (see p. 10). Leininger encourages this by writing about the copious overflow of vocations that each of us has in everyday life, and the calling(s!) that crop up wherever God may lead us. Indeed, he writes that “the most impactful saints had many and various callings through which God worked His good and gracious will” (p. 7).
During my time in college, as I discerned my next steps, I discovered an appreciation for Psalm 16, which is a wonderful example of King David responding to the reality of uncertainty. He cries out in distress and anxiety, “Preserve me, O God” (v. 1), and yet speaks to the confidence he holds fast to:
The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; You hold my lot. The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance. (Vv. 5–6)
While David does not know his future, he does not waste precious breath questioning or wondering about the outcome, but instead simply and beautifully confesses the inheritance he already claims. He finds peace not in his situation or in having all the answers, but instead in knowing and trusting in the One who holds his future.
Although I initially felt restless and unsatisfied with my college experience, God transformed it into abundant joy through the daily routines, people, and callings of my life at school. Through the faces, places, and spaces that I once overlooked, I recognized God’s provision for me. I also fully grasped the blessing of the doctrine of vocation. Although I will again be plagued by difficult decisions or various fears, this teaching reminds me that as I walk daily in my callings, I am already walking in God’s grace-filled, purpose-given desire for me.
Scripture: ESV®.
To learn more about the goodness in the callings of your everyday life, check out Callings for Life!
