09/01/2026
Unfinished...
God… what did You store for me?
Because some days feel like waiting rooms
with no clock on the wall,
just echoes of prayers I whispered
when I was too tired to cry out loud.
I’ve been patient.
I’ve been lost.
I’ve been strong in ways no one applauded.
I’ve watched doors close
right when I thought I finally found the handle.
I’ve smiled through conversations
while my heart was negotiating with disappointment.
So tell me, God—
is this delay protection,
or preparation?
Are You hiding me
because I’m fragile,
or because what’s coming
needs a stronger spine?
I don’t ask for easy.
I just ask for worth it.
I’ve carried faith in my pockets
like loose change—
small, noisy, easy to lose—
but somehow still enough
to get me through another day.
If this season is silent,
teach me how to listen.
If this season is heavy,
teach me how to lift without breaking.
Because I’m still here.
Still hoping.
Still believing that unanswered
doesn’t mean unheard.
Really, God…
whatever You stored for me—
I hope it explains the waiting.
I hope it heals the doubt.
I hope it feels like home
after all this wandering.
And until then,
I’ll keep walking.
Even when I don’t see the road—
I’ll trust
You wouldn’t make me this strong
for nothing.
