God Uses Every Season

We like straight lines, clear plans, and predictable paths.

But calling rarely moves in a straight line. More often, it zig-zags through seasons that seem unrelated, unnecessary, or even frustrating at the time.

Yet God wastes nothing.

A Dream Revisited

I recently spent a weekend in the mountains with my grown nephew. I love that our relationship has shifted from Aunt and child to genuine friendship. Over long conversations, he shared his journey.

At heart, he has always been an artistic creator. Music has lived in him for as long as I can remember. But for years, he molded himself into something safer—steady 9-to-5 work, good income, and responsible decisions. He did well financially, but joy was missing.

When he entered his thirties, he recognized the ache wouldn’t go away. He began writing songs and taking small gigs in the evenings after work. Slowly, the creative spark grew stronger than the safety net.

Eventually, he made a courageous decision. Because he had managed his money wisely, he had room to try. He stepped away from full-time employment, and pursued music fully. It is scary, especially nearing forty. But for the first time in decades, he feels joy in his work.

Those earlier years weren’t wasted. They funded the risk. They built discipline. They shaped character. They made this step possible.

A Switchboard and a Story

My own path looks just as crooked.

At fifteen, I worked as a switchboard operator—the kind with plugs and cords. I learned how to speak graciously and professionally, and manage chaos of ten lines ringing at the same time. Those skills followed me everywhere.

In high school, I worked at a real estate company. I learned office systems, filing, and professional etiquette (and office dynamics…something foreign to this naive, shelterd girl). In college, I worked in the business department and also graded papers and typed up tests. In the summers, I served as a college ambassador, learning to connect quickly with students from every walk of life and helping them see a place for themselves on our campus. After graduation, I became a church and school secretary. There, I learned discretion. You don’t have to hear private conversations to understand the importance of guarding what you see.

Later, I worked in fundraising at universities and then for the American Red Cross. I even wrote a disaster fundraising manual for South Carolina. (That writing muscle would resurface years later in ways I never imagined.)

Then I became a mother. That season alone shaped patience, perseverance, and the sobering realization that children may ignore your words, but they never ignore your example.

I substituted in schools. Fifth-grade math stretched me thin. Special needs kindergarten through second grade stretched my heart wider. I learned that everyone can learn—we simply have to find the right path to understanding.

Eventually, I founded and directed an English as a Second Language program. Recruiting volunteers, organizing systems, fundraising supplies, teaching creatively, and “herding cats” (seventy-plus volunteers with unique personalities). Every previous season suddenly converged.

Nothing was random.

Preparation in Disguise

At the time, none of those roles felt connected. Switchboards do not scream “future author.” Filing systems do not hint at ministry leadership. Fundraising manuals do not appear to foreshadow novels.

But God was weaving.

Scripture reminds us, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

All things. Not just the seasons that make sense. Not just the jobs that feel important. Not just the roles we chose deliberately. All of it.

Look Back to See Forward

If you are in a season that feels disconnected from where you thought you would be, pause and look back. What have you learned that seemed irrelevant at the time? What skills did you develop when you thought you were just earning a paycheck? What patience did you build when you thought you were simply surviving?

Those threads are not loose ends. They are preparation.

The switchboard taught me to manage chaos with grace. The filing systems taught me to organize thoughts. The fundraising taught me to tell a compelling story. The volunteering taught me to lead without control. Motherhood taught me that influence happens through consistency, not perfection.

None of it was wasted. And when God called me to write fiction that explores faith through relatable characters navigating hard choices, every single thread came together.

Trust the Weaving

You may not see the pattern yet. That is okay. God is not finished.

Your current season may feel small, frustrating, or completely unrelated to what you thought you were meant to do. But God is weaving something you cannot yet see. He is building muscles you will need later. He is shaping character that will carry you through what comes next.

Those threads are not loose ends. They are preparation.

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The question is not whether God is working. The question is whether you will trust Him while He does.

So keep showing up. Keep learning. Keep growing. And when the time comes, you will look back and see that nothing was random. Every season had a purpose. And the God who called you has been preparing you all along.

If you’d like to hear my nephew’s secular but clean music, visit The Grove of Silas Gray. My favorite is I, Myself, and Me. I’d love to know your favorite!