Let's start right off with the most important one. The Universe is astonishingly random. There is no plan. None. There is order, certainly, but this is imposed by gravity, not fiat.
Human life is also, mostly, random. It is nothing more than pure, dumb, random luck that you even exist. Or that I exist. Or, for that matter, that any particular individual exists. A single second's difference in your parents' finishing on the night you were conceived would have reduced your chances of being conceived by something like 99.9999%. Whatever they may say, your parents were not planning you, they were just planning a child and you got lucky.
That's not saying there's no cause and effect. Obviously there is. But it's not planned. It just happens. Did the Cleveland Indians win a game on a particular night? Say they did. Was that part of some divine plan? After all, lots of fans in all sports tend to think of God as this magical being who can be talked into fixing the game for you if you pray hard enough. That sort of prayer seems to get answered positively more often than most, no doubt because there are generally only two possible outcomes to any given game. If you have 100 people praying the Indians will win, and 100 praying the Yankees will, then at the conclusion of the game 100 of them will be convinced God was listening to them, and the other hundred will figure they need to pray harder.
But, if not God, what was the real reason for the win? It's actually just as likely to be a Norman knight in 1108 raping a Saxon housemaid and producing what turns out to be the 37th great grandfather of the winning pitcher. The housemaid would no doubt have preferred not to be raped, but if she hadn't been, the game might have been lost instead of won. Or, for that matter, baseball might never have been invented. Random.
Random is, by definition, unplanned. Human beings are remarkably talented when it comes to finding patterns. But the fact that we can find them doesn't always mean they're really there. Remember Martian canals? Lowell was convinced he saw them, and when I was kid Martian maps still showed them. But in the last few years Martian orbiters and landers have shown that these canals never existed. To borrow from Lewis Carroll, it really is possible to "believe six impossible things before breakfast."
Mystery is slowly yielding to science. At one time people could read Genesis and feel confident that the creation stories, Noah's flood, and the adventures of Abraham and his family were historical fact. Some, in a triumph of faith over reality, still do. Still, believing something to be true doesn't make it so. I can believe that Nicole Kidman is gripped by a deep-seated lust for my body, but that certainly doesn't mean that she really is. Or that she's ever even heard of me. (And, not being particularly psychotic, I feel I should mention this is just an example, and I don't believe any of that nonsense. I have more than enough trouble getting noticed by women I've actually met without obsessing about ones I likely never will.)
Ultimately, you can plan things, but there's no great planner deciding the big things. Fate doesn't exist. Free will? Argue about that with Sam Harris. I'm going to sleep.