When Your Path Intersects God’s Providence

Genesis 24 is the longest chapter in the book. That’s not an accident. In biblical interpretation there’s a principle called the principle of proportion: the more space Scripture gives a topic, the more important it is in God’s economy.

So think about it—Genesis spends more time describing how Isaac met Rebekah than it does the creation of the world. Why? Because marriage, in God’s eyes, is not a side issue. It’s a living parable of the Gospel itself—the husband laying down his life for the bride he loves.

The Bible begins with a wedding in Eden and ends with a wedding in heaven—the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. And Jesus’ first miracle took place at a wedding in Cana. So, yes, marriage matters deeply to God.

By the time we arrive at Genesis 24, Sarah has been gone three years. Abraham is 140. Isaac is forty. Abraham knows that if God’s promise is going to continue, Isaac needs a wife. But Isaac, like a lot of young men in every generation, isn’t making much effort. So Dad steps in.

Now remember—this is before dating apps, before “swipe right,” before FarmersOnly.com. Back then, if you were single, your 140-year-old father found your spouse. Imagine that. You’re thinking Ariana Grande, he’s thinking Angela Lansbury.

So Abraham calls his trusted servant, likely Eliezer, and gives him a sacred assignment:


That phrase “under my thigh” was an ancient oath—an act symbolizing trust, legacy, and covenant. Abraham was placing his entire future, his lineage, into Eliezer’s hands.

Abraham’s instruction wasn’t about personal taste. It was about spiritual alignment. He knew that Isaac’s wife needed to share the same faith, the same story of trusting the unseen God who called them out of their homeland.

“Whatever you do,” Abraham says in essence, “don’t take my son back there.”

Because sometimes one bad relationship can undo years of walking with God.

Scripture gives us wide freedom in whom we marry—personality, background, interests—but it gives zero liberty to unite our life with someone who doesn’t share our faith. Paul’s words are blunt: Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers.

Two animals under one yoke must move in the same direction. If one is a bull and the other a donkey, the plow won’t move straight. That’s the picture of a home where one believes and one doesn’t. Over time, the shared things don’t hold; the unshared things tear apart.

Abraham looks beyond the moment to the mission. He’s not just trying to get Isaac married—he’s looking for a line that will lead to the Messiah.

Eliezer obeys. He loads ten camels, packs gifts, and heads to Mesopotamia. When he arrives, he doesn’t sit idly by. He positions himself “by the well at evening time, when the women came out to draw water.”

In other words, he put himself in the path of potential.

Sometimes believers say, “I’m just waiting on God.” But they’re waiting in the wrong places. Faith isn’t passive. God steers moving servants, not parked ones.

If you’re praying for God’s will, get in environments where obedience is likely. If you want to meet someone who loves Jesus, don’t start the search at a bar called The Devil’s Elbow. Go where godly people gather—church, service, community, worship.

Eliezer did his part. Then he prayed.

His prayer was specific:


That’s no small request. A camel drinks twenty-five gallons. Her jar held three. Do the math: nearly a hundred trips to the well—two sweaty hours of back-breaking kindness.
Before Eliezer finishes praying, Rebekah appears.

The Bible often distinguishes between miracle and providence.

• Miracles are when God splits seas and stops suns—His seen hand.
• Providence is when He quietly aligns events, timing, and hearts—His unseen hand.

Rebekah wasn’t teleported there by angels. She just happened to go to the well at the exact time a praying servant arrived. But in God’s economy, “just happened” is another way of saying “right on schedule.”

Verse 21 says Eliezer “gazed at her in silence to learn whether the Lord had prospered his journey.”

He didn’t rush. He observed. He discerned.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is wait. Watch how people handle small things. Watch whether they give, whether they serve, whether they worship when no one’s looking. That will tell you more than grand gestures ever will.

When the picture becomes clear, Eliezer doesn’t take credit. He bows his head and worships. He says, “Blessed be the Lord… who has not forsaken His steadfast love.”

Providence isn’t complete until it turns into praise.

Every answered prayer, every unexpected intersection, every closed door that led to a better one—those are invitations to gratitude.

Years ago, I received a rejection letter from Belmont University. At the time, it felt like the worst day of my life. But that rejection sent me to UNA, where I met my wife, found my calling, and started the path that brought me here.

That letter wasn’t a rejection—it was a redirection. It was one of God’s camels leading me to His plan.

• Perspective: Look beyond the moment to God’s mission.
• Path: Put yourself where faith can flourish.
• Providence: Trust the unseen hand that guides the willing heart.
• Patience: Discern before you decide.
• Praise: Give God the glory when the story unfolds.

God’s plan is always bigger, often harder, but ultimately better. When your heart aligns with His purposes, even detours become divine directions.

So make godly plans. Take faithful steps. And rest in divine providence—because the same God who guided camels to Rebekah still directs His people today.