Interrupted Plans

Read

Matthew 1:20–21 “But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.’”

Think

There’s a strange thing that happens around Christmas. We expect everything to be perfect. The music, the meals, the moods. We plan the gatherings, the gifts, the family traditions. We want the moments to feel warm, the photos to turn out right, and the season to settle us. But more often than not, Christmas shows up with its own interruptions. A canceled flight. A diagnosis. A strained relationship. A budget that’s tighter than expected. The holiday doesn’t always ask permission before it shifts our expectations. And that can leave us disoriented—wondering where God is in the middle of it.

Joseph didn’t ask for an interruption either. He had a life laid out in front of him. He was engaged to Mary. They were doing things the right way—honoring God, building toward a future. And then came the news that unraveled all of it: Mary was pregnant. And not by him.

Imagine the confusion. The betrayal. The shame. He knew the child wasn’t his, and yet Mary insisted it was from God. How could that be true? Joseph didn’t throw a fit. He didn’t go public to humiliate her. Scripture says he planned to divorce her quietly. That small detail tells us something about Joseph’s character. Even in his own grief and disappointment, he chose compassion. He still wanted to protect Mary’s dignity, even though he didn’t fully understand what was happening. And then came the dream.

God didn’t stop the interruption. He didn’t prevent the confusion. But he did meet Joseph in the middle of it. An angel appeared with words Joseph desperately needed to hear: “Do not be afraid… what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit… you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

God doesn’t always explain everything, but he says enough. Enough to shift fear into faith. Enough to reframe what looks like disaster as divine. Enough to remind Joseph that God’s hand is still writing the story—even in the parts that feel like everything is falling apart.

That’s the tension so many of us carry, especially during Advent. We want the light, but sometimes all we can see is the shadow. We want clarity, but all we get is a quiet whisper in the dark. And yet, that’s exactly how God showed up the first time. Not with lightning from heaven, but in a dream. Not with royal announcements, but through ordinary people navigating extraordinary circumstances.

God’s plan for Joseph wasn’t wrapped in stability. It came through surrender.

God was inviting Joseph into something far bigger than a personal plan or a perfect marriage. He was inviting him into the story of redemption itself. But that invitation didn’t come with ease. It came with questions. It came with risk. It came with the willingness to let go of what made sense and trust what didn’t. And isn’t that often the way God works?

Sometimes what feels like rejection is really redirection. What feels like a disruption is actually divine preparation. What feels like a loss of control might be the moment we finally make room for God to take over.

Joseph’s yes to God didn’t just protect Mary—it helped usher in the arrival of the Messiah. His obedience—quiet, costly, and unseen—became part of the greatest story ever told.

You might not have had an angel show up in your dreams, but chances are, you know what it’s like for your plans to fall apart. You know what it’s like to carry disappointment quietly. To try to honor God when it feels like things aren’t going the way they should. You know what it’s like to wrestle with questions that don’t have immediate answers.

The beauty of Joseph’s story is that God doesn’t wait for us to have it all figured out before he speaks. He steps in while we’re still afraid. He speaks into the middle of the mess. He reminds us that what he’s doing might not be what we expected—but it will always be what we need.

Maybe that’s the invitation of Advent: not to tidy everything up, but to let God in—even when the house isn’t ready. Even when the plans have changed. Even when we’re not sure how the story ends.

Because the story of Christmas is not about people who got it all right. It’s about people who made room. People who said yes when it didn’t make sense. People who trusted God enough to keep walking when they couldn’t see the full path.

So if your plans feel interrupted right now, you’re in good company. You’re standing where Joseph once stood—on the edge of what you thought life would be, and the beginning of what God is actually doing. And what he’s doing? It just might change everything.

Apply

Write down one area where your plans have been interrupted this year. Don’t rush to fix it or spiritualize it—just name it honestly. Then take a quiet moment and ask God to show you where he might already be working in the middle of what feels uncertain. You don’t have to see the whole picture to trust the hand that’s painting it.

Pray

God, I confess that I struggle when things don’t go the way I planned. I want answers. I want clarity. But more than anything, I want you. Teach me to trust you even when I don’t understand. Help me surrender the script I’ve written for my life and open my heart to what you’re writing instead. I believe you are with me in the interruptions. I believe you are doing something deeper than I can see. So today, I choose to say “Yes!” In Jesus’ name. Amen.