A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about my twenty-hour delay getting to England and the consequential events I missed but the opportunities and blessings I achieved.
This week I was reading (again in Exodus) about God’s route to the promised land once the Israelites were out of Egypt and found that not only does God work in delays, but He also works in detours . . . for the good of His people.
I am testament of this.
Graduating high school, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to be either a screen writer or a professional tennis player. My parents thought I would make a good teacher, but like any self-respecting eighteen-year-old, their opinion was the kiss of death for that profession.
So off I went to Southern California to pursue one of my two dreams. Though UCLA and USC would have been the obvious choices for both, they were too big for a small-town girl. When I set my eyes on UC Irvine (then only 10,000 undergrad and grad students total), I felt at home, and after a chance meeting with the Women’s tennis coach, I was sold.
Let’s shorten the story a bit. I majored in English and took every writing class available. (Only one offering was screenwriting.) My tennis improved exponentially, yet I moved further down the ladder as better players enrolled. The future seemed pretty clear. I was not prepared for one and not good enough for the second. So by the time I graduated, I had no idea what I was going to do.
I was accepted into the masters program at the University of Iowa in sports information. I had a place to live and a part time job. Then a man I respected told me my lungs could freeze in Iowa, so I didn’t go. (Never considered the millions already living and surviving there just fine.)
Instead I became the assistant women’s tennis coach and administrative assistant to the women’s athletic director at San Diego State University. Both great learning experiences, but both poor paying.
I then moved into a business position in a start-up company in Santa Ana and hated it, so I started soul-searching. I missed the school environment, English, and tennis. I called home and asked if I could live there for a year while I worked on my teaching credential. (Never thought about kids. It was all about me.)
Fortunately, my parents said yes, and I returned to Fresno. After a semester of course work, I entered my first classroom on my first day of student teaching (supported by two fantastic master teachers) and have never looked back. I absolutely loved it and loved it till the day I retired.
I have been asked if I regret not having pursued a writing career from the start. My answer is two-fold. First, if I hadn’t gone into teaching, I am not sure what I would have written about. No students—no stories. Second, my teaching career has given me the freedom to pursue the stories and projects I want to write without the weight of making a living attached to it.
I had my vision and God had His plan. Had I pursued teaching at my parents’ suggestion—had I taken the fastest most direct route—I don’t know if I would have embraced it as I did later, after I had taken the opportunities to pursue what I thought I wanted.
Who knows. I might have been very good and successful at any of those opportunities, but I do know that I landed in a field that I loved and that by the time I made the decision, it was the right one.
Perhaps you have had a similar experience in some area of your life. Either the journey or the destination was not exactly what you had planned, but the result was definitely God directed as He knew the direct route would not have been the best for you.
If you have, I would love you to share.