The Interim

The journey of calling will always include periods of transition and sometimes those transitions bring along a wilderness. How can we learn to lean into God during the in between?

May 01, 2024

assorted-color lear hanging decor — Photo by Chris Lawton on Unsplash

Hey friends!

Summer weather is in full swing here in the Outer Banks, and I’m super grateful to soak in the sunshine for a while before heading back to the UK. As I sit in the warmth and peace of my parents’ home, I can’t help but think about all the little acts of obedience that led them here. They certainly experienced their fair share of wildernesses along the way.

On the journey of calling, we often find ourselves in transition seasons for longer than we’d like. And, sometimes, we find ourselves not just waiting, but waiting in the middle of a deep wilderness. Today I want to talk about the in between seasons — the interim. These are often the most challenging seasons on the journey of calling.

Let’s dig in together…

The interim seasons are some of the hardest seasons we endure on the road to calling, but if we can learn to lean in and be honest with God, He is faithful to meet us in the waiting and sustain us for the journey ahead.

The colors of fall were draping the whole street when God finally began to give me vision for what was next. I looked out the big picture window of the flat we were subletting in London and found myself drawn into the red and orange flames of the Katsura tree outside — all the luminous leaves collecting and gathering around the red post box. In the distance, other trees were following suit, painting the landscape with the colors of a sunset. It was a beautiful.

The season was changing and the evidence was all around me.

I was more than halfway through my sabbatical, fully resigned from my teaching jobs, and sitting perched by the window with my notebook in hand. I was meant to be praying, but I was finding it hard that day.

It had taken a lot of courage and trust to leave my teaching jobs. I was also weary from shuffling between countries and desperate to be settled into community — to have a home that was ours, to hold my visa in hand, to begin our life in London properly, and to know what God was transitioning me into vocationally. And yet, I seemed to be forever stuck in the interim.

I had very little vision for what God had next for me. I certainly didn’t expect my sabbatical to be the wilderness it had become.

I wanted to believe it would all come together. I wanted to have faith for God to open up the next right thing at the next right time. I wanted to be okay with the waiting. I wanted to be patient. I wanted to be like those people who talk about waiting on God’s timing like it isn’t the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do in your life.

But, the reality was that I was exhausted. God had been doing a deep work within me, excavating things from my past, healing old wounds, opening up space within me for him to pour in identity, and I was grateful for it all, really, I was. But I just wanted to begin my next season.

I was tired of the wilderness.

As I sat on a stranger’s couch in a flat that wasn’t my own, full of stuff that was foreign to me, I broke down and cried.

At first, the tears only dropped down sporadically on my notebook pages, blurring the ink on the page which held the last bit of hope I had left. Before long, the tears poured from my eyes like water bursting out of a broken faucet. I fell to my knees.

God, please give me vision for what’s next so I have something to hold onto. Please give me hope that you are working in the midst of this wilderness, in the midst of this waiting. I’m just so tired, Lord.

As I prayed this desperate prayer, I felt frustration overwhelm me.

God, why haven’t you showed me anything? I’m tired of the mystery! I’m sick of waiting! I need vision! Why all the delays? Why? I’m tired of hopping from home to home to home. All my things are scattered. I feel alone. Where are you?! I need your help! Please, Lord, will you remember me?

Silence.

More silence.

I sat in the silence of the room, my broken heart still lingering like a thick fog in the air. I sat in the stillness for quite some time. And, it was when I paused that I finally felt God’s presence break in. At first, I felt bad about laying into Him the way I did, but I couldn’t help but think it is those honest prayers He treasures the most.

I sat in the silence and as the fog lifted, I felt God’s love continue to wash over me. You see, He was with me in the painful waiting. Although my season wasn’t changing any time soon, He was with me. Then, in a soft and gentle whisper, God’s tender voice broke the silence.

When you are waiting on God, sometimes He is waiting on you.

There’s a great quote from Pete Greig’s book Red Moon Rising where he says, “So I'm waiting for God, and God is waiting for me to see if I am really waiting for him, and not just wanting things from him.”1

This quote wrecks me. Here is the hard truth, and the reality of my last year, sometimes it is God bringing you into the wilderness. Sometimes it is only in the desert seasons where God can do the deep work within you that he needs to do for what is next.

The wilderness is part of the journey to calling.

And I’m not saying that every wilderness you experience is God leading you into it, but sometimes, it is Him. Because He is too good to let you go on without equipping you for what’s next.

After moving to London in April 2023, I have shuffled between the U.S. and the UK for over a year. My sabbatical was six of those months. I didn’t have the beautiful home base I envisioned for my sabbatical season, instead I was deposited in twelve different stops along the way. Yet, God was doing a deep work within me. He was waiting to see if I was really waiting on him, or if I was just wanting to do things my own way.

I finally received my spouse visa in the mail today. But the reality is, I experienced so many delays. It was extremely frustrating. I spent so many hours crying, worshipping, and praying over this visa. I spent even more time pressing into God’s word, holding onto his promises, and believing he would make a way.

Last night, before my visa arrived, I felt prompted to reflect on my year. As I reflected on what I’ve learned since April 2023, I was overwhelmed with God’s grace and goodness. The list could become a book of its own — hint hint, maybe it will.

I will give you a snapshot here and I hope this list encourages you. If you are in the thick of it — if you are waiting on God or he is waiting on you or your prayers seem to just linger in the air around you — God is with you. He sees you and He is with you.

I’ve learned to go to God first with everything. We have to be honest and bring everything to him in prayer — the good and the bad. He is not afraid of your emotions or your reactions. He longs to listen.
I’ve learned that Scripture is truly a weapon. Find verses that specifically speak life into what you are struggling with and live in those verses until they change you, until they shape your heart into the heart of God.
I’ve learned that the valleys, not the mountain tops, are where the most growth is. There are very few things you can grow on a mountain top. The valleys are where the cultivation and planting takes place.
I’ve learned that waiting requires God’s gift of faith because we can never muster up enough on our own. Ask God to give you faith to sustain you. He will meet you in your circumstances and he will never leave you.
I’ve learned that trust and obedience often occupy the same space in the wilderness. Trust is obedience in action and obedience requires us to trust God. We will never do what He’s called us to do if we don’t listen, trust, and obey.
I’ve learned to worship through the wilderness. We have to continue to praise Him as if the promise is fulfilled, especially when things feel the most hopeless. On my worst days, I couldn’t bring myself to pray and I just put on my headphones and listened to worship music. The songs gave me the words I couldn’t form on my own.
I’ve learned that it’s okay to have bad days and that God is still good on the bad days. He never changes. He is the same and will remain the same. His love for you also never changes.
I’ve learned that sometimes wildflowers can grow in the most unlikely of places. You are always planting seeds even when it only feels like your hands are in the dirt. God will use everything.
I’ve learned that learning to hear God’s voice is the most important thing we can do in our life. He is always speaking. If we slow down and listen, He will speak truth. Cultivating rhythms in your life that make space for His voice is essential.

God has called you.

Before you were born, he named you.

He couldn’t wait to release you into the world and see what you would do with the gfits He’s given you.

You are an image-bearer of Him— that is your truest identity.

He loves you more deeply than you could ever fathom. He invites you into the journey of calling because he longs to see you come into the fullness of his plans for your life to flourish.

Don’t give up in the wilderness.

Don’t let the interim seasons convince you that God isn’t working.

Don’t lose hope, even if all you have is a single thread, hold onto it with your whole self.

Draw close to the one who created you and calls you chosen, loved, and deeply treasured — even if your circumstances don’t change, your heart will expand to hold God’s love even in the darkest of seasons.

He is unchanging and He is faithful.