Transition In Stillness
There is something uncomfortable about being in between.
Not where you used to be.
Not yet where you believe God is taking you.
Just… here.
And if I’m honest, this space does not always feel holy. It feels quiet. It feels uncertain. It feels like nothing is happening. But I am learning that just because something is still does not mean God is not moving.
Scripture says in Psalm 46:10, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
Not rush and know. Not strive and know.
Be still.
Stillness has a way of confronting everything in you that depends on movement to feel secure. It exposes the parts of me that equated progress with noise, visibility, and arrival. But transition is not loud. It is often deeply silent.
I am in a new place. A new season. A new chapter.
And while there is excitement, there is also a refining that I did not anticipate. Because I thought I was waiting on a moment.
God is developing a posture.
You see, patience is not a time frame. It is a posture. And that posture is not passive. It is active, stretching, and deeply intentional. Galatians 5:22 (AMP) breaks it down in a way that leaves no room for misunderstanding. It says the fruit of the Spirit [the result of His presence within us] is love [unselfish concern for others], joy, [inner] peace, patience [not the ability to wait, but how we act while waiting], kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
That part right there changed everything for me. Patience is not about counting days. It is about character being formed while time passes. Transition is not rushed because transformation cannot be microwaved. We love the idea of arrival. The “I’m here” moment. The visible breakthrough. The answered prayer that everybody can see and celebrate. But God is not fixated on the destination the way we are. He is after the development that happens in the movement. Because if I arrive without being developed, I will mishandle what I prayed for.
Isaiah 43:18-19 says, “Do not remember the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing, now it springs forth, shall you not know it?”
The new thing is not just a place.
It is a process and sometimes the hardest part about God doing a new thing is that it requires me to release the old one without fully seeing the new one yet. That is where stillness stretches me. Because I want clarity. God is asking for trust.
Philippians 4:6-7 reminds me, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your heart and your mind in Christ Jesus.”
Peace becomes the evidence that God is working, even when I cannot trace what He is doing.
And then there is endurance.
We talk about faith. We talk about favor. But endurance is where the real work happens.
James 1:2-4 says to count it all joy when we face trials, because the testing of our faith produces endurance. And endurance, when it finishes its work, makes us mature and complete, lacking nothing.
Endurance is not glamorous.
It is showing up when you feel unseen.
It is trusting when you feel unsure.
It is continuing when you feel like stopping.
Endurance is the work.
Perseverance is the sweat beads.
Endurance is what God is building in the unseen. Perseverance is what people notice when you keep going and I am realizing that this in-between space is not empty. It is full.
Full of pruning.
Full of stretching.
Full of God gently removing what cannot go with me into what He has prepared.
I am not behind.
I am being built.
So no, I have not had the “boom, I’m here” moment. But I am walking. And this walk is purifying me. It is edifying me, it is producing something in me that arrival alone never could.
Stillness is not stagnation.
It is surrender and this transition is not something I have to rush through. It is something I am being refined in.
So if you find yourself here too
in between
in transition
in stillness
Know this God is not delaying you, He is developing you and what He is producing in you is far greater than where you think you are going.
in stillness, God is moving
