Each year, I look forward to the Florida Christian Writers Conference at Lake Yale Conference Center. After some encouragement, I pitched an idea for a class and this year was my first time on faculty. I checked the schedule and prepared for my class on the first night of the conference. Are You Ready to be All-In?, was the name of my class and I couldn’t wait to encourage other writers.

            Wednesday evening came and my classroom was filled with writers of all ages and stages. God led the way as I reminded them not to compare themselves or seek the numbers or popularity. My challenge to them was to be fully present and seek Christ in their writing. If he was the reason they wrote, then he needed to be who guided their pen, even if sometimes that meant writing for only an audience of one. What really mattered was being authentic, intentional, and obedient.

            Many people came up in tears and thanked me for reminding them of their calling and putting the writing life in perspective. I told them I could only share these things because I had learned them the hard way. I’d chased the numbers and tried doing it for the wrong reasons. But at the end of the day, our only reason for writing should be to honor Jesus who gave us the gift in the first place.

            I went to bed encouraged and grateful that God allowed me to share what he’s spent fifteen years teaching me and I couldn’t wait to meet with and encourage other beginning authors during the week.

Then, Thursday morning came. I woke up puking my guts out. Most of the day I ran between the trash can and the toilet. Thank God for friends and a great doctor. Meds were called in and picked up and by late Thursday, the hurling was over, and rest became the name of the game.

I tried to be careful and not interact with anyone until the 48-hour window ended. Even into Saturday, I cautiously made small appearances here and there at the conference, staying in the back of main gatherings and away from others. I was able to attend a few sessions and the awards night but missed all the classes and meetings I’d set up.

My emotions could have swung in many directions. I could have been angry and disappointed. I could have freaked out and panicked. But instead, I chose gratefulness. God allowed me to teach my class before I got sick. He used my words to touch others. And in those weak moments of sickness, I once again realized that I have zero control over my life. The verse from Proverbs 19:21 (NIV) came to mind, “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”

My best made plans were no match for God’s. In those still moments of rest, stuck in my room at the conference I’d looked forward to all year, I thanked God. For healing. For rest. For the intentional interactions he placed in front of me. I prayed for the speakers and workshop leaders and the defeated writers who had come to me in tears on Wednesday night. I worked on some writing projects in between naps. And when I was finally able to reemerge, I thanked God for the conversations and interactions he placed in my path.  

I came home physically exhausted, but spiritually full; reminded once again of my entire dependence upon Christ in all things. His ways are not my ways. But no matter what, he is still good, even when our plans go up in smoke.

Even in the changes, chaos, and detours God is still faithful and fulfills his intended plans. He is still good, oh so good. And he never neglects his children. We just have to get out of the way and trust that his ways are the best ones.