When God Interrupts Your Plans
By Pastor Lucy Kyllonen
At the start of this year, I was so ready to jump into 2026.
I was ready to build.
I was ready to relaunch a coaching program.
I was ready to leave 2025 behind and move forward with new ideas and goals.
And then… one morning, I got out of bed, and everything changed.
The sciatic nerve pain hit in a way I’ve never experienced before. I would’ve much rather gone through labor and all my other surgeries combined than this kind of pain. It was completely unexpected. It led to an ER visit and multiple doctor’s appointments—with little to no relief.
It didn’t just slow me down—it stopped me in my tracks. Completely.
It felt like cruising at 70 mph on the highway, and suddenly, traffic comes to a dead stop.
What I thought would be a quick recovery turned into weeks of discomfort, fog, and frustration. And if I’m honest, one of the hardest parts wasn’t just the pain—it was the feeling that I had let people down. And if I’m really honest… I even wondered if I was being punished.
I kept asking God, What is going on?
Weeks into this, He began to give me some clarity: “This is a Sabbath year. A season of rest and healing.”
Follow me for a moment to Leviticus 25:1–6, where God commanded the Israelites to let the land rest every seventh year—no planting, no harvesting, no striving to produce. In the natural, that doesn’t make sense. Because if you don’t work, you don’t eat… right? But God was teaching them something deeper—trust.
Trust that He would provide enough in the previous years.
Trust that what the land produced on its own would be enough.
We already struggle to practice Sabbath once a week—can you imagine doing it for a whole year? It sounds crazy.
And yet… there’s something incredibly freeing in realizing that rest is not a risk—it’s part of God’s design.
So what does this have to do with me?
In 2019, I began a new journey after hitting rock bottom. I stepped into a sabbatical because I was burned out. I began practicing rest, healing, silence, solitude, Sabbath, prayer, journaling, and intimacy with God. I started creating margin, setting boundaries, and protecting this sacred place I found with Him. Since then, I’ve been learning, teaching, and sharing about Sabbath and burnout. THAT WAS SEVEN YEARS AGO!!
And now, in my seventh year, the Lord allowed me to experience a level of physical pain I had never known before. Had He not, I might have missed the direction He was trying to lead me in—not because of sin, disobedience, or punishment, but because sometimes God answers our prayers in unexpected ways.
With all the excitement and noise of the new year, He placed me in a position where I had no choice but to be still—so I could hear Him beyond the confusion, the pain, and the questions. What felt like a disruption… was actually a divine invitation.
Seven years ago, I chose to rest.
This time… God chose it for me.
He invited me into an unexpected Sabbath year—a season of rest and healing—allowing Him to restore, realign, and deepen some things in me. And interestingly enough, I had already chosen “deeper” as my word for 2026. I just didn’t expect it to look like this.
In Leviticus 25, the land resting wasn’t just about farming—it represented their source of productivity, income, and identity.
So for them:
No planting = no initiating new work
No harvesting = no forcing results
No striving = no controlling outcomes
I may not be tending land, but I do have areas in my life where I produce—where I build, lead, and create. And when I really sat with it, I realized: What the land was to them… my work, leadership, and calling can be to me.
For me, “no planting” looks like not launching something new—even though I feel ready.
“No harvesting” means not forcing results or trying to make things happen. It looks like embracing a slower, steadier rhythm instead of overthinking and overanalyzing like I’m used to.
And “no striving”… that’s been the hardest part.
It means letting go of my way. Not pushing through pain. Not overriding what my body and soul are telling me. It means learning to care for my body more deeply—and my soul more slowly.
And I’m reminded that rest, when it’s led by Him, isn’t a setback—it’s alignment. It’s about His timing. It’s about what He has for me—not everyone else.
So my “Sabbath year” isn’t about doing nothing.
It’s about doing only what God is asking—and having the discipline to not do what He’s not asking.
I don’t have all the answers for what’s next. But I do have peace about where I am and I’ve learned to embrace this season. Now, I’m even excited because He’s taken my pain and turned it into purpose- literally.
And maybe this is for you too…
Could this season be an invitation rather than an interruption?
Where is God asking you to trust Him without having all the answers?
What would it look like to live aligned instead of accelerated?
I’d love to hear your story.
If you’re in a season like this, or God has been teaching you something through it, feel free to share with me at chosen@crossoverchurch.org.
