Woke up grateful today. Genuinely.
A few months ago I was quietly grieving a season where I worked hard, sowed deeply, and never got to eat what I planted. It hurt more than I let on.
But I have made peace with it. Because if none of that happened the way it did, I would not be here.
I think we underestimate how much it takes out of a person to give their best to something and walk away with nothing to show for it.
Not because they failed. Not because they did not try hard enough. But simply because the timing was not right, or the ground was not ready, or life moved in a direction nobody planned for.
That kind of loss does not always get acknowledged. There is no name for it really. It sits somewhere between disappointment and grief, and most people will never even know you are carrying it.
I carried it quietly.
But here is what happened when I stopped trying to rush past the feeling and actually sat with it.
I started to see the thread...
Every hard thing. Every door that closed too soon. Every harvest I never got to taste. They were not wasted. They were wiring something in me. Building something I could not see at the time because I was too close to the loss to see the layout.
If that chapter had ended differently, I would not be here. And here is good. Here is really, really good.
That understanding did not erase the grief. But it gave it a purpose. And that was enough to make peace with it.
So I will wait... Knowing that when the time is right, the harvest will come... and it will be more than enough. 😌🙏🏽
If you are in the middle of a season where you are pouring in and cannot yet see the return, I want you to hear this.
Your labour is not lost. Your effort is not wasted. The ground remembers everything you planted.
The harvest is coming. Wait for it.
