When God uses a season of stillness to rebuild what matters most
I’ve been on a sabbatical this past year. During that time, God has been revealing, little by little, why I’ve felt so… meh. Stuck. Quiet.
Have you ever been there?
God has commissioned you to do a work, but you just can’t seem to get to work. You’re not rebellious. You’re not running. You simply feel unable to move forward. It feels like a waiting room. What made it even more confusing for me was that this season came right after one of the most transformative experiences of my ministry journey. God put the Authentic Faith Women’s Conference on my calendar when I wasn’t even looking for it. The No Limit for Christ team was intentional, obedient, purposeful, and committed to completing everything He assigned us. And we did. We showed up. We followed through. We watched God move. So what was this?
Why would God seem to hit pause when it felt like I was finally getting started? That’s where I found myself living. Not for a few weeks. Not for a month. For almost a year. In fact, I’m still in that season. I prayed. I reflected. I waited. I wrestled with the tension between knowing there was more to do and feeling unable to move forward. Then recently, God made it clear.
It’s about keeping our allegiance fixed on Christ alone.
Repent.
There was no public failure or scandal. I didn’t walk away from Him. But there were things hidden in the secret places of my heart that He needed to address and uproot. I’ve come to believe that sometimes being stuck is God’s way of getting our attention. No shame on us or punishment. But to correct, realign, tear down, and rebuild according to His will rather than our own. The point of view we think it will go. The plan we structured. If any of it is out of His will and timing, you feel stuck because God is getting our attention. We serve a God of order and systems.
There is purpose in God’s design. He created us to live in continual relationship with Him so that His life, wisdom, and direction flow through us, not just to us. But when we interrupt that flow through divided loyalties, misplaced priorities, or subtle compromises, God, in His grace, will often slow us down. Sometimes, He even allows us to feel stuck. Not to punish us, but to lovingly correct us before we drift further away from Him. That flow is our relationship with Him. It’s about keeping our allegiance fixed on Christ alone.
We see this in Ezra 9-10. After returning from exile, God’s people had begun rebuilding the temple and restoring worship. Yet beneath the visible progress, something deeper was broken. Many had intermarried with the surrounding pagan nations, and with those relationships came divided hearts, old patterns, and influences that pulled them back toward idolatry and away from wholehearted devotion to God (Ezra 9:1-15). Before God would continue establishing His people, He called them to repentance and covenant renewal (Ezra 10:1-12).
God wasn’t simply concerned with outward obedience. He was after their hearts.
The same is true for us. The deepest work God does is rarely public. It happens beneath the surface, in our thoughts, motives, mindsets, fears, assumptions, and allegiances. Those are the places where He tears down what doesn’t belong so He can rebuild a life that reflects His will instead of our own.
The places no one else can see.
Sometimes what feels like a delay is actually an invitation. An invitation to examine what we’ve attached ourselves to. An invitation to surrender what we’ve been protecting that doesn’t belong to Him and didn’t come from Him. An invitation to let God rebuild foundations that looked solid but weren’t built His way entirely. We often assume being stuck means we need a new strategy, more motivation, or a clearer plan. Sometimes we do. But sometimes we need repentance. Sometimes the breakthrough isn’t found in doing more.
It’s found in yielding more.
The good news is that God never exposes something without intending to heal it. He never tears down without a plan to rebuild. His correction is not rejection. It’s evidence that He loves us enough to prepare us for what comes next. Looking back, I can see that what felt like being stuck was actually God doing some of His most important work. Not in my ministry. Not in my plans. Not in my productivity. In me.
And maybe that’s where your breakthrough begins, too.
Leave a Reply