When The Call of God Isn’t Linear
We love a good story arc, don’t we?
The kind where everything lines up.
Where the calling of God unfolds with cinematic clarity.
Where there's a clear beginning, a middle full of growth, and a triumphant end where purpose and peace meet.
But for most of us, the call of God doesn’t follow that script.
Not because we’ve failed.
Not because God is withholding.
But because God isn’t in the business of shortcuts — He’s in the business of shaping souls.
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve thought: This is it. This is the turn.
And sometimes, it was.
But more often than not, what I thought was a destination turned out to be a hallway. A threshold. A pivot point. A moment that taught me something I didn’t know I needed to learn.
And so the journey continued — not forward in a straight line, but deeper, slower, and more surrendered.
1. The Myth of the Straight Line
There’s a myth many of us carry — sometimes unknowingly — that once you say yes to God’s call, things should start to align.
Doors should open.
Fruit should grow.
People should notice.
And peace should abound.
But that expectation isn’t biblical. It’s cultural. We’ve baptized ambition and called it calling. We’ve mistaken momentum for confirmation.
In Scripture, calling is rarely convenient. And it’s almost never linear.
Think of Joseph. His calling came in a dream — a divine foreshadowing of leadership. But from that dream to its fulfillment came betrayal, slavery, false accusations, imprisonment, and years of waiting.
Had we judged Joseph’s call by the circumstances of his life, we’d have declared him a failure by age 30.
But the call of God isn’t a straight line. It’s a slow carving.
A steady refining.
A forming in the wilderness before the platform ever arrives.
And often, the wilderness is part of the calling.
2. The In-Between is Still Sacred
There’s a temptation to measure calling by outcomes — the number of people impacted, the visibility of our work, or the sense of forward motion we feel. But much of God’s work happens in the in-between.
The in-between jobs.
The in-between churches.
The in-between clarity and confusion.
The seasons when you’re not sure if what you’re doing still “counts.”
But here’s what I’ve learned: The call of God doesn’t expire in transition. It deepens.
The silence might be holy.
The waiting might be sacred.
The detour might be designed.
We forget that Jesus spent 30 years in relative obscurity for 3 years of public ministry. And even those 3 years ended in what looked like failure — betrayal, arrest, crucifixion.
The call of God doesn’t always look like “winning.”
Sometimes it looks like faithfulness with no applause.
Sometimes it looks like continuing when nothing makes sense.
3. Formation is the Real Fruit
One of the greatest shifts in my understanding of calling came when I realized this:
God is far more interested in who I’m becoming than what I’m producing.
We can mistake fruitfulness for metrics — growth, success, visibility.
But in the Kingdom, fruit looks like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness… (Galatians 5:22–23). It looks like humility and faithfulness and trust.
The deeper call of God is always toward Christlikeness.
And sometimes, the only way to grow into that is through a path that doesn’t make sense on paper.
I think of the Emmaus road — how the disciples walked with Jesus, unaware it was Him. He taught them, walked beside them, even listened to their grief… and they didn’t recognize Him until the breaking of bread.
Sometimes the call feels hidden. Sometimes Jesus walks with us, disguised in disappointment. But He’s still there. Teaching. Forming. Walking us home.
4. Disorientation Doesn’t Mean Disqualification
There have been times I’ve asked, “Did I miss it?”
Not because I was running from God, but because things weren’t unfolding the way I thought they would. I assumed clarity would continue. I assumed momentum would build. I assumed the path would unfold more smoothly if I was really “in God’s will.”
But Scripture never promises linearity. It promises presence.
We serve a God who led His people by cloud and fire, not by map and itinerary.
The cloud didn’t explain itself — it just moved.
And the people had to follow.
If you feel like you’re wandering, that doesn’t mean you’re disqualified. It may just mean God is teaching you to walk by trust, not control.
5. Walking with a Limp
Maybe you’re reading this and you’ve already been through the fire.
You’re carrying disappointments that didn’t fit into the dream.
You’ve taken detours that weren’t part of your original vision.
You’ve lost people, jobs, opportunities — maybe even some parts of yourself.
Let me say this plainly:
You’re not behind.
You’re not broken beyond repair.
You’re not less called because the path has been hard.
Jacob walked with a limp after wrestling with God — and the limp didn’t disqualify him. It marked him. It reminded him of who he was and the God who renamed him.
Some of us are limping our way through our calling — and that’s holy ground too.
A Different Kind of Faithfulness
If the call of God in your life doesn’t feel like a ladder but a labyrinth — know this:
You’re not lost.
You’re being led.
Every quiet yes, every unseen act of love, every private moment of obedience — it all counts.
You don’t have to rush your way to clarity. You don’t have to prove your faithfulness by productivity. You don’t have to map out the next ten steps.
Sometimes the holiest thing you can do is keep walking.
Not toward outcomes.
Not toward applause.
But toward the One who called you in the first place.
Because the real call of God isn’t just to a role.
It’s to a relationship.
To a Person.
To the kind of trust that keeps walking even when the road bends.
Reflection Questions for the Journey:
Where have I assumed the call of God should be more linear?
What expectations might I need to surrender?
Can I trace God’s presence even in the detours?
Who am I becoming through this season?
What small yes is in front of me today?
