Professional aviators plan each flight confident of success, but at the same time also expect the worst to pounce and devour the unguarded. They memorize emergency checklists for engine failure on takeoff, or fire in flight, or landing with a flat tire, or getting lost. The best always ask, “What’s the backup plan?” Their confident doubting makes commercial aviation the world’s safest transportation. And, therefore, we might reason that if contingency planning works so well in the air, it ought to serve the rest of life with equal benefit. Depends.

On one hand, the Bible counts the five virgins wise that brought extra oil and chides five foolish girls for bringing none. Praise comes to the diligent worker who stores up food for the winter, but hunger plagues the lazy man. It commends Joseph’s famine backup plan and says to count the cost before going to war—can you go the distance or not? On the other hand, it chastises Nabal for keeping food for his own household rather than giving it to a brigand. It faults Judah for seeking allies when confronting vast armies and denounces the rich man for building bigger barns. Confusing?

We ask, “If this or that happens, then what?” What do we fall back on? Make a plan, or hope for the best? Wise stewardship of creation demands a backup plan. Creation, however, proves a poor foundation. Truly complete plans rest solidly on the Creator Himself. What was Esther’s backup plan if the king withheld his scepter? What was Gideon’s backup plan when he attacked the Midianites? What was the widow’s backup plan when she gave her last two coins? The most solid possible—they stood on the Rock.

So, how did the Lord deliver you the last time that you, like Jonathan, showed yourself to the Philistines?

Judges 7:1-21; Matthew 25:1-13; Esther 4:15-16; Mark 12:41-44; 1 Samuel 14:1-13; 1 Samuel 25:2-44