Grace Across Borders: Biblical Lessons and Global Legends

When Good Things Become a Substitute for God’s Assignment

2:03 a.m.

Sleep had given up on me long before I gave up trying to find it.

My medications still needed to be packed. My hair wasn’t done. My daughter’s hair still needed attention. My hands ached, reminding me that fibromyalgia doesn’t care how carefully I plan my day. Every hour ahead was already spoken for, doctor’s appointments, meetings, responsibilities, and the ordinary demands of life.

So I did what seemed logical.

I sat down to write.

Except…I didn’t.

Instead, I spent the next two hours researching things that suddenly felt more urgent than the blog sitting in front of me.

Then, in the middle of my distraction, one word quietly settled into my spirit.

Procrastination.

At first, it made perfect sense. I’ve been a lifelong procrastinator. I could have written about unfinished projects, unanswered emails, unpacked suitcases, or even the blog I was avoiding.

But something didn’t sit right.

This felt different.

God wasn’t talking about my schedule.

He was talking about my calling.

The beautiful thing about the Holy Spirit is that He rarely speaks into just one moment. Instead, He gathers conversations, memories, convictions, and seemingly unrelated events until suddenly they all point to the same truth.

That’s exactly what happened to me this week.

Scripture

The book of Haggai opens during a hopeful yet frustrating season in Israel’s history. God’s people had finally returned home after years of exile in Babylon. They had been given a fresh start and a clear assignment: rebuild the Temple, the place that represented God’s presence among His people.

They began with excitement.

The foundation was laid.

The people celebrated.

Then life happened.

Opposition arose. Discouragement settled in. Priorities shifted. Years passed.

Little by little, rebuilding God’s house stopped being the first priority.

Instead, the people focused on rebuilding their own homes, restoring their livelihoods, caring for their families, and putting life back together.

None of those things were sinful.

In fact, they were understandable.

The problem wasn’t that they were doing bad things.

The problem was that they had allowed good things to replace the first thing God had asked them to do.

So God sent the prophet Haggai with a question that still speaks today.

“These people say, ‘The time has not yet come to rebuild the LORD’s house.’”
— Haggai 1:2

Notice what they didn’t say.

They never said, “We will never rebuild it.”

They simply said,

“Not yet.”

“Not yet” can sound very spiritual.

“When life settles down.”

“When the children are older.”

“When my health improves.”

“When I have more money.”

“When the timing is right.”

Then God lovingly challenged them:

“Give careful thought to your ways.” (Haggai 1:5)

He wasn’t inviting them into guilt.

He was inviting them into reflection.

Had they become so busy rebuilding their own lives that they had quietly postponed the assignment God had given them?

As I read those verses this week, I realized God wasn’t just speaking to Israel.

He was speaking to me.

Folklore

We’ve all heard the saying,

“The longest journey begins with a single step.”

But we rarely talk about the longest delay.

It begins with a single word.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I’ll start.

Tomorrow I’ll apply.

Tomorrow I’ll write the book.

Tomorrow I’ll answer God’s call.

Tomorrow I’ll finally take that first step.

One tomorrow becomes another. Days become months. Months become years. Before we know it, what was meant to be a brief pause quietly becomes a permanent detour.

The truth is, procrastination isn’t always laziness.

Sometimes it’s fear.

Sometimes it’s disappointment.

Sometimes it’s perfectionism.

Sometimes it’s waiting for the “right season.”

And sometimes…

it’s something even more subtle.

Sometimes we don’t reject God’s assignment.

We simply replace it with another one.

Reflection

Earlier this week, I met with several pastors and chaplains. Most of our conversations centered around seminary, internships, and the road ahead. Yet almost every meeting began with the same two questions.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“What has God called you to do?”

No matter who asked, my answer always seemed to begin in the same place.

Jamaica.

That was where God first placed pastoral ministry on my heart. I had already begun preparing for pastoral ministry and high school counseling when life took an unexpected turn. My son became ill, and what I thought would be a temporary interruption became a completely different season of life.

I came to the United States.

I joined the military.

Life kept moving.

While serving on active duty, I worked tirelessly to earn my master’s degree in Early Childhood Education. It was one of the most demanding seasons of my life, but by God’s grace I finished in record time with a perfect 4.0 GPA.

When I was medically retired, I naturally assumed that degree was the direction God wanted me to go. It made sense. I had worked hard for it, and I believed He had opened that door.

Except every door I tried to walk through kept closing.

Every conversation seemed to end the same way.

“You’re not ready to return to work.”

Between doctor’s appointments, treatments, and the unpredictability of my health, no one encouraged me to pursue employment. Instead, every path seemed to point me back to school.

For a while, I couldn’t understand why. I thought it meant doing a doctorate…

Then one day, as clearly as I’ve sensed the Holy Spirit in a long time, one thought settled into my heart.

“I provided the funding.

Go back for pastoral ministry.”

At the time, I simply accepted it as God’s direction and enrolled in seminary. I didn’t realize He was bringing me back to an assignment I had slowly drifted from.

During one of my meetings this week, I shared that while I believed God had called me to pastoral ministry, I wanted to pursue chaplaincy.

The pastor listened and then asked a simple question.

“If that’s what God called you to do, why aren’t you doing that?”

Then he added,

“That sounds more like the job you want than the calling God gave you.”

His words stayed with me, but I couldn’t quite figure out why they affected me so much.

Then came this morning.

At 2:03 a.m., I sat down to write this blog.

Instead of writing, I found myself doing everything except the assignment in front of me. I researched. I wandered. I filled my time with things that somehow felt more important than what I had planned to do, none on my to-do list.

Then the Holy Spirit whispered one word.

Procrastination.

At first, I thought He was talking about the blog.

But as I sat quietly, those conversations from earlier in the week began replaying in my mind.

That’s when everything connected.

The unfinished blog wasn’t the lesson.

It was simply the doorway God used to show me something much deeper.

For years, I had convinced myself that I was choosing the easier path.

But when I really stopped to think about it, chaplaincy wasn’t easier at all. It required graduate education, ordination, endorsement, Clinical Pastoral Education, certification, interviews, and continuing education. In many ways, it demanded even more.

That’s when I realized the issue wasn’t really procrastination.

It was substitution.

Somewhere along the way, I had quietly exchanged God’s original assignment for one that made more sense to me.

Suddenly, Haggai looked different.

The people weren’t refusing to rebuild God’s house.

They simply kept saying, “Not yet.”

They stayed busy doing good things, but good things had replaced the first thing God had asked them to do.

As I sat there, I realized I wasn’t so different.

I never stopped loving God.

I never stopped serving.

I never stopped preparing.

But somewhere along the way, I became comfortable working on an assignment that felt more practical than the one God first placed on my heart.

Sometimes we spend years avoiding the assignment God gave us, only to discover we’ve created a far more difficult assignment for ourselves.

Maybe life interrupted what God asked you to do.

Maybe you’ve been faithfully busy doing good things while quietly postponing the first thing He asked of you.

If so, don’t mistake His conviction for condemnation.

His grace is still inviting you back.

Back to the assignment.

Back to the place where He first spoke to your heart.

When you become still enough to listen, His whisper won’t be, “Not yet.”

It will simply be,

“Come back.”

Please pray for His leading…