It’s been a while since I’ve written like this — the kind of writing that feels less like words on a page and more like a river breaking free after a long winter freeze. For a while, I thought maybe the season of writing was behind me. Perhaps the well had run dry, or maybe I had already said all I needed to say. But then, as God so often does, He whispered in the stillness.
And the whisper was clear.
“It’s time again.”
Not because I’m owed another season of
creativity, but because He has more work to do through me — and through these
words.
When I wrote my first book, my goal was
simple: if one person reads this and it helps them, it will be worth it.
I didn’t have a marketing plan, a social media strategy, or even the confidence
to believe I was an author. I just had a heart that was burning with something
to say and a faith that told me God could use it.
Now, after over 35,000 readers later, I can
say this with certainty — that goal was met, and then some, not because of my
talent, but because obedience to God always multiplies.
But here’s what I’ve learned since then: God
doesn’t create us to stop once the first mountain is climbed. He doesn’t call
us to rest at the summit and admire the view forever. He calls us to keep
moving, to find the next climb, the next valley, the next lesson that will
deepen our faith and strengthen our voice.
For the past six months, I’ve lived in the
quiet — the kind of quiet that can’t be scheduled or planned. It’s the
stillness after the storm, when you stop striving and breathe again. In that
stillness, I found peace. I found clarity. And I saw the reminder that
sometimes growth doesn’t look like doing; sometimes it seems like becoming.
The Quiet
Season
There’s a sacredness in quiet seasons that
most people overlook. The world tells us we’re only valuable when we’re
producing, performing, or proving something. But the Spirit whispers something
very different: “Be still and know that I am God.”
With that knowledge, I began to see the
difference between motion and momentum. Motion is what we do when we’re afraid
to stop. Momentum is what happens when God is moving through us, even when
we’re standing still.
During these past months, I let go of the need
to prove anything — to anyone. I let God recalibrate my heart. I learned again
how to listen without interrupting, how to rest without guilt, and how to pray
without needing an answer right away.
And in that quiet, I realized something:
blessings often arrive wrapped in rest. Growth usually begins in gratitude.
We live in a world obsessed with noise —
constant updates, scrolling comparisons, endless notifications. But the real
growth? It happens in the silence between those distractions. It happens when
you stop filling every moment with sound and allow the Spirit to speak in a
voice that only stillness can hear.
The
Blessing of Becoming
Growth is never just about getting bigger or
better — it’s about becoming more of who God designed you to be.
When I look back at my own story, every
blessing I’ve received came from a place of surrender. The moment I stopped
fighting for control, I found peace. The moment I stopped questioning God’s
timeline, I found purpose.
We often say we want blessings, but what we
really want is comfort. Yet, the most powerful blessings rarely come dressed as
comfort. They come disguised as discomfort, challenge, or loss — because those
are the places where God stretches our faith to fit the next season of our
calling.
If I’ve learned anything since writing my
first book, it’s that blessings are not rewards for doing good; they are
reminders of God’s goodness in the middle of what we don’t understand.
Some blessings show up as people who walk with
us when the world walks away. Others come as closed doors that redirect us to
the right path. And sometimes, the greatest blessing is the one we don’t see
until much later — the one we thought was a setback but turned out to be a setup
for something greater.
Facing the
Critics
When you write, speak, or live authentically,
criticism will follow. It’s inevitable. The world has become fluent in
judgment. But I’ve learned that vulnerability is not weakness — it’s worship.
It’s the willingness to say, “Here I am, God, use me,” even when others don’t
understand what He’s doing through you.
When I first began sharing my heart publicly,
I felt naked. Exposed. Writing has a way of stripping away the armour we wear
to appear strong. It reveals who we really are — the raw, unfinished,
still-learning version of ourselves.
And yet, that’s exactly where God does His
best work.
Jesus didn’t protect His reputation; He
surrendered it for the sake of others. That’s what love does — it gives even
when misunderstood.
So, if you’re reading this and you’ve ever
hesitated to share your gift because of fear or criticism, let this be your
encouragement: don’t hide what heaven has placed in you. Someone is waiting for
your story, your strength, your scars.
Because when you share your scars, you permit
others to heal theirs.
The Gift of
Time
I’ve come to see that the most precious gift
anyone can give is their time. And if you’ve chosen to spend some of yours
reading this, I don’t take that lightly.
Time is sacred. It’s not renewable. Once
spent, it’s gone. And yet, how often do we trade it for things that don’t
matter? Endless scrolling, comparing, regretting — while the people we love
wait for our presence, not our perfection.
The quiet season reminded me that God measures
growth differently from the world. The world measures success in what we
accumulate. God measures it in what we give away.
The hours we spend encouraging someone who’s
hurting, the minutes we take to pray for a friend, the seconds we use to choose
patience over pride — that’s how we build an eternal return.
Renewed
Purpose
As I begin writing again, I do so not with the
pressure to repeat the success of past seasons, but with the peace of knowing
that each season carries its own assignment.
This one feels like an invitation — not just
to write words that inspire, but to help others find blessings in their own
becoming. To remind you that your quiet season is not wasted, and your growth
may not be visible, but it is happening.
If I could sum up my heart right now in one
sentence, it would be this:
“God doesn’t create us to sit — He creates us
to shine.”
You were made for more than survival. You were
made to become. To expand. To rise again after resting. To do more than
you’ve ever done, but from a place of peace, not pressure.
The last few months reminded me that light
doesn’t always roar — sometimes it flickers, rebuilds, and then shines brighter
than before.
Blessings
in Every Layer
When we hear the word “blessing,” we tend to
think of the obvious — the new job, the answered prayer, the healing, the
breakthrough. But blessings are layered.
Some blessings are loud — they make you cry
out in joy and gratitude. Others are quiet — they settle in your spirit like a
sunrise that doesn’t need to announce itself. Both are sacred.
Blessings are not earned; they’re entrusted.
God gives them not because we’re perfect, but because we’re available. And
every blessing carries a responsibility — to use it, share it, multiply it, and
shine it forward.
If we hoard our blessings, they lose their
purpose. But when we pour them out, they multiply. That’s how God’s math works
— the more we give, the more room He has to fill.
Growth
Through Gratitude
Gratitude is the soil where growth takes root.
When I look back on every chapter of my life,
gratitude was always the turning point — not success, not achievement, not
recognition. Gratitude.
The moment you start thanking God before
you see the result, that’s when transformation begins. Because faith isn’t
believing after you see — it’s believing until you see.
Gratitude doesn’t deny hardship; it redefines
it. It says, “Even here, even now, God is still good.”
I’ve had seasons where gratitude was a whisper
because life felt heavy. But I’ve also seen how that whisper becomes a roar
when you realize that even the hardest days carried hidden blessings.
As I write this new book, my prayer is that
gratitude becomes your growth language — that you begin to see blessings not
just in answered prayers, but also in the waiting, the learning, and the
becoming.
The Light
Returns
If you’ve ever felt like your light went out
for a while — you’re not alone.
Even the brightest candles burn low at times.
But the thing about God’s light is that it doesn’t depend on your energy to
stay lit. It depends on your willingness to be used.
I used to think I needed to shine perfectly
all the time, to be a consistent example of faith. But now I understand —
authenticity shines brighter than perfection ever will.
When you’re honest about where you are, people
see the light of Christ more clearly through you because He shines best through
our cracks, not our polish.
This next season of writing isn’t about
perfection. It’s about permission — permission to shine again, to speak again,
to create again, and to believe again.
The
Blessing of More
God has a way of using rest to prepare us for
more. And “more” doesn’t always mean busier or bigger — sometimes it means
deeper.
More peace. More clarity. More presence. More
understanding.
But also, more courage to step into what’s
next without fear.
I’ve seen God move in ways that humble me to
my core. I’ve seen lives changed, families healed, faith restored. And through
it all, I’ve realized something simple but powerful: when God blesses you, it’s
never just for you.
He blesses you to be a blessing.
He grows you to help others succeed.
He shines through you so that others might see Him.
The Closing
Prayer
As I close this reflection, I want to leave
you with this:
If these words reached you, it’s not by
accident. You were meant to read this, right here, right now. God is still
writing your story, and He’s not done yet.
You might be in your quiet season. You might
be waiting for direction, healing, or confirmation. But know this — you are
growing, even if it doesn’t look like it. You are blessed, even if it doesn’t
feel like it. And your light, no matter how dim it feels, still has the power
to lead someone home.
So let this be your reminder:
The best is not behind you. The best is still becoming.
Shine again.
Believe again.
Write again.
Live again.
Because blessings are waiting — and growth is
already happening.
Author’s
Note
To everyone who has read my work, shared it,
or found hope through it — thank you. You are the reason I write. You’ve given
me the greatest gift of all: your time.
And as I return to writing with renewed
purpose, my prayer is simple — may these words meet you where you are and move
you closer to where God wants you to be.
Here’s to blessings.
Here’s to growth.
Here’s to becoming.
Craig your words are so uplifting and bring such Hope. Looking forward to reading what is coming next.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely worth my time to read to the end! Thank you again! Delighted to see you writing again!
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