Traffic Lights

Last night as I was pulling up to a traffic light, it shifted to red. For a moment, I felt that familiar sting of disappointment and the temptation to get discouraged. But just as quickly as the red light appeared, it turned green and my whole spirit lit up. In that instant, the Lord began to speak.

How often do we treat life like a traffic light, frustrated at the reds and rushing through the greens? We get so eager for what we think we want, need, or even deserve, that we forget: if it wasn’t ordained by God, it was never truly ours to begin with. His rhema word is not a blanket statement, not a one-size-fits-all pep talk. It is designed. Tailored. Ordained. His word is living, breathing, and written specifically for the moment and the person it was intended to reach.

And here’s the revelation: when it is ordained by God, the enemy cannot snuff it out. There is no force in hell that can undo what God has already written with His finger. There is no delay that can cancel His timing. And there is certainly no mistake in His plan.

We wrestle with timing as if God is bound by the clock. We wrestle with silence as if God forgot our address. But if the God of the universe cannot make a mistake, then why do we believe He somehow missed the mark with us, our lives, our families, our prayers? Why do we convince ourselves that He got everyone else right but must have overlooked us? That is not who He is.

If He set the light to red, it was not rejection, it was protection. If He turned it green, it was not coincidence, it was alignment. And if He allowed you to sit in yellow, waiting and watching, it was not wasted, it was preparation.

So breathe. Trust. Yield to the rhythm of His timing. You do not have to race against God. When He speaks, when He releases, when He ordains, it will flow. The light will shift. The path will clear. And you will know it was not by accident, but by divine orchestration.

There is no delay in heaven. And most importantly, there is no mistake.

My Yes

There’s a difference between agreeing with God and surrendering to Him. Agreement says, “That’s a good idea, Lord.” Surrender says, “Here I am, Lord. Take it all.”

When I said yes to God, it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t this perfect, Instagram-ready moment where I felt holy and whole. My “yes” came through tears, through wrestling, through realizing that my plans had to die if His purpose was going to live through me.

For a long time, I thought my delay was caution. In truth, it was fear. Fear of losing control. Fear of being misunderstood. Fear of what obedience would cost me. But God doesn’t bargain with fear. He calls it out. He doesn’t make deals with hesitation. He waits for surrender.

The Word tells us in 2 Peter 3:9 that the Lord is not slow in keeping His promises, but patient with us, not wanting anyone to perish but all to come to repentance. That patience is what met me when I was dragging my feet. He didn’t force me. He waited for me.

Just like Jonah, I tried to run. I tried to negotiate. I tried to choose my own path. But when Jonah came back to God, he discovered that delayed obedience still requires obedience. I had to learn the same lesson. My yes could not be partial. It had to be complete.

The truth is, I was asking God for things but not aligning my heart with Him. James 4:2b-3 says, “You do not have because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives.” That pierced me. My prayers couldn’t just be about blessing. They had to be about surrender.

And then I remembered His heart toward me. Jeremiah 29:11-14 says that He knows the plans He has for me, plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me a hope and a future. It goes on to say that when I call on Him and pray, He will listen, and when I seek Him with all my heart, I will find Him. My yes was not wasted. It was the key to walking into the plans He already had in place.

My “yes” is not glamorous. It has meant walking away from familiar places. It has meant trusting God when the numbers don’t add up. It has meant sacrificing time, energy, finances, and even relationships that could not walk where He was leading me. Yet even in the sacrifice, I’ve heard God whisper what He spoke through Samuel: “To obey is better than sacrifice” (1 Samuel 15:22).

But my “yes” has also unlocked a peace I can’t explain. It has drawn me closer to the heart of God. It has turned what looked like endings into beginnings. It has made me realize that obedience is not about the stage or the spotlight. It’s about the secret place where nobody sees but God, and He whispers, “I’m with you.”

If you’ve been sitting on the edge of obedience, I get it. It’s hard. It costs something. But the truth is, not saying yes costs more. Disobedience delays destiny. Silence suffocates purpose. Hesitation can harden into regret.

The psalmist said, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4). That’s what I’ve found on this side of surrender. God doesn’t just demand obedience. He transforms my desires until they align with His. And then He fulfills them in ways I could never imagine.

So here I am, standing on the other side of fear, still trembling but fully surrendered. My “yes” may not be loud, but it is real. And I pray that in reading these words, you’ll be stirred to give God yours. Not halfway, not when it feels convenient, but fully. Because the Kingdom doesn’t advance on our comfort. It advances on our surrender.

This is the weight of my yes. This is where Drop the Verses begins.