Not Yet, But Soon Dear Sister,   I see you.  I see your heart breaking under the weight of your burdens.  I see the silent tears.  The whispered prayers.  The questions that swirl in your mind late at night.  I see you trying to hold on when everything in you wants to let go.  You feel like you’re at your breaking point, and yet,  God is still saying,  Not yet. Not yet….though  Not yet, though your finances are stretched thin, and you wonder how much longer you can keep going. Not yet, though your body aches with pain, and healing seems like a distant dream. Not yet, though loneliness creeps in, and you long for love, for companionship, for family. Not yet, though betrayal has left wounds so deep you wonder if you’ll ever feel whole again. Not yet, though the courtroom battle for your children is draining you of every ounce of strength. Not yet, though your workplace has become a battlefield, and you’re weary of fighting. Not yet… but so...

What is your situation saying? That might be a strange question to ask, but I need you to really sit with it. What is your trial saying to you? What is the fire trying to teach you? What’s the lesson hidden in the pressure, the loss, the silence, the suffering? What are you gaining by this trial, this fire, this situation? Are you gaining faith, patience, love, trusting God?  Because whether we realize it or not,  God is speaking. He speaks in the stillness. He speaks in the chaos. He speaks through His Word, through people, through circumstances, through suffering. But the real question is:  Are we positioned to hear Him?  Are we postured in such a way that His voice can rise above the noise of our flesh? You see, our flesh has a voice too. Our fallen human nature loves to speak first. It’s loud. It reacts. It panics. It tells us we’re abandoned, that we’re cursed, that nothing is working. The flesh says,  “Complain.”  The flesh says,  “Worry.”  ...

Sometimes, you have to just sit. Sit in silence in the presence of God. There is something deeply transformative about being still before the Lord, about surrendering the need to speak and simply resting in His presence. The world is loud, full of distractions, noise, and burdens, but God calls us to a place of stillness, where our silence becomes a language of the heart that He understands. “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). One thing I know for sure: He understands. God isn’t blind. He sees your heart, your sorrow, your pain, those deep emotional wounds that words cannot express. He knows the unspoken cries, the silent prayers that only tears can carry. Even when you cannot find the words, you are still in conversation with Him. Your silence speaks volumes, and He listens intently. In this season, lean into God like never before. Press into Him. Draw near. He is closer than close. The enemy wants to overwhelm you with noise, with anxious thoughts, with frustration and ...