One fabulous Thinker

Lately, I've been walking through a season I don't know how else to describe except as a pause. Not a stop. Not a loss of direction. Just a slowing. A holy exhale. The kind where you're still moving forward, but you're moving with your hands open instead of clenched. I'm waiting on God's words right now. Not because He's silent, but because I want to hear Him clearly. I'm holding tightly to His promises—some I've already seen fulfilled, others I'm still trusting Him for—and I'm learning how to sit in the tension of already and not yet without rushing either one. This season feels quieter on the outside, but inwardly it's tender and alive. My spirit feels alert, aware, and deeply sensitive to what God is doing beneath the surface. In this pause, I've noticed something unexpected: the voices I'm drawn to in Scripture have shifted. I'm not reaching for stories of movement, visible victory, or dramatic breakthrough. I keep returni...