Honestly, the idea of fate has always felt a little too mechanical to me. Like life is a railroad track already laid down, and we’re just passengers staring out the window, convincing ourselves we’re driving.
As a Christian, that doesn’t quite line up with what I believe. Fate suggests a script that’s been written in ink — every choice predetermined, every misstep scheduled, every heartbreak inevitable. That kind of worldview makes us actors reciting lines instead of people living lives.
But I do believe in something deeper than randomness.
I believe in a God who knows the end from the beginning — not because He forced it into existence, but because He stands outside of time. I believe in a Father who wants the very best for His children. I believe He has a plan — not a rigid script, but a direction. A calling. A design.
And here’s where it gets complicated. Because He also gives us freedom.
Real freedom. The kind that lets us love Him or ignore Him. The kind that lets us make wise choices or foolish ones. The kind that allows us to hurt people — or heal them. That freedom means our stories are not puppeteered. They are lived.
Looking back on my own life, I can see moments that felt almost orchestrated — Jacksonville, Daryl, the classroom, friendships that intersected at just the right time. But I can also see decisions I made that veered off course. Times I chose poorly. Times I delayed obedience. Times I created messes that I then had to walk through.
If fate were real, none of that would matter. It would all just be “meant to be.” But grace only makes sense if choice is real.
So no, I don’t believe in destiny in the sense that everything is locked in and inevitable. I don’t believe we’re marching toward a fixed ending no matter what we do.
But I absolutely believe in a plan.
I believe God lays out a path toward goodness, purpose, and wholeness. I believe He invites us into it. I believe He nudges, convicts, redirects, and sometimes closes doors we’re stubbornly trying to force open.
And when we wander? He doesn’t throw away the story. He weaves redemption into it.
Maybe that’s the better word — not fate, not destiny, but redemption.
We are not stuck on rails. We’re walking a road. And the Father walks with us. The direction is there. The invitation is constant.
The choice is ours.
Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.
