God's Will

By Carolyn Vogel

“God’s will” can seem elusive. We can treat “God’s will” as if God were hiding His hands behind his back, making us guess which hand holds the key to unlock all our future joy and purpose, even reshuffling the prize between hands as we unsuccessfully try to follow. Is it any wonder that confusion, panic and anger have infused many prayers as we’ve asked, “What is Your will? How can anyone discover it? Why is my attempt bringing on fits of anxiety, reducing me to suck in air from a paper sack?”

That last one was my prayer. Let me tell you my story.

I went to Amman, Jordan as a Missionary Associate for two years. I made the decision to go to Jordan soon after graduating from Sacramento State University with a degree in Humanities and Religious Studies. With degree in hand, I thought to myself, “What on earth do you do with a degree like that?

Escaping a career in the food service industry was not the only reason I went to Jordan. I went for several reasons – because I honestly had no idea what else to do with my life (a good launching pad for humility), because I wholeheartedly agree with Chi Alpha’s campaign for everyone to “Give a year and pray about a lifetime,” and because I believed/believe it was God’s will for me.

Living and working in Jordan was at once a painful struggle and a profound joy. In the process of adapting to life in the Muslim world, I had decided God’s will was for me to live and work in the Middle East, specifically ministering to Muslim women, for the rest of my life. I made plans to study Arabic, steep myself in Arab culture, and absorb the gift of hospitality my Muslim sisters perform so naturally. I thought I had discovered God’s will and was ready to lay down my American life for the sake of the Gospel. My plan was to return to the States for a few weeks, then begin a new assignment in Bethlehem.

Then I had a huge change of plans. As I was praying and preparing to go to Bethlehem, “Stay” was the message I heard more loudly and clearly as my departure date loomed ahead. I ignored it because it didn’t make sense to me, but once I finally listened, it was clear: I would not go to Bethlehem; I would stay in Sacramento until I heard otherwise. I am staying, not because of the war, not because my heart isn’t desperately attached to Palestine, not because I don’t want to teach or study Arabic. I’m staying because I’m staying.

That’s all I can say to explain it. I’ll live in Sacramento until “Stay” is replaced by “Go.” I just bought a cell phone, secured a place to live, and am currently writing a résumé. Each step of the process is gut-wrenching, scary and exciting.

But here’s what I’ve been meditating on while this has unfolded:

1. To obey is better than sacrifice (1 Samuel 15:22). I still don’t completely understand why I’m in Sacramento and why I have a strong red light when I pray about returning to the Middle East anytime soon. I would love to sacrifice everything—all the comforts of home, family and friends—to serve the Lord in ministry. But my obedience must outweigh that zeal, or the zeal is ultimately destructive. So perhaps God is stretching that weak obedience muscle to match the super-strength of sacrifice.

2. Hosea 2:14-15 says, “Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth...” Being in the Middle East was a struggle in many ways, but God spoke very tenderly to me during that time. I could hear His whisper much more clearly than the previous spiritual alarm bells and shouts in my comfort zone of Sacramento. He broke me. And it was painfully beautiful. I believe I’m in the season of restoration where He’s restoring my joy, my peace, my reason to sing. He’s strengthening me for the future, whatever that future may be. And the fact that I don’t know what the future holds strengthens my faith.

Fast forward to the present. Here I am back in California, working in an air-conditioned office, steeped in the comforts of American culture. What happened to my desire to be a missionary in the Middle East? Funny thing. I was certain it was God’s will, but a series of fortunate events unexpectedly brought me home. And in the process of throwing myself at the feet of the Almighty, sobbing because my plans, His plans, weren’t working, I discovered “God’s will” cannot be captured and boiled down to my decisions and feelings. “God’s will” was not for me to own and put on display like a dead butterfly.

Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I get it wrong. That’s okay. What I know about God’s will for my life is what He’s revealed to us in Scripture. For example, I know He has plans to prosper me and not to harm me because He told us so in Jeremiah 29:11. Those promises are His will for our individual lives and will not change. We can know it because we’ve read it, soaked it into our hearts and minds, and chosen to believe it. We know it because God wrote those promises with His own blood. This is God’s will, freely extended with open, loving hands to all who will receive it. And although I would still love to return to the Middle East, I know that He will work out the details. I can trust Him because He knows what’s best; there are no formulas for His will, only Him.