When God Says "Wait," But You Hear "Go"

Friend, can I ask you something honestly?

Have you ever been so sure you heard God clearly, only to realize later that you misunderstood your part? Not that you misheard Him. But you rushed ahead when He said, 'Wait.' Or acted when he said, "Prepare. Or started building when He said, " Pray.

I have.

And it's been one of the most humbling and strangely beautiful lessons God has ever walked me through.

Sometimes God's voice says, "Be still." Sometimes it says, "Prepare."And sometimes, very clearly, it says, "Move."

What I've learned is this: God was never unclear. I just wasn't hearing Him from a healed place yet.

There were seasons when His voice was steady and sure, but my own history was louder. Old survival patterns. Fear of missing the moment. Fear of being left behind. Even pride is quietly dressed up as confidence.

And sometimes, the filter wasn't broken at all. It was simply who I am. I'm a helper. I love people deeply. I notice needs quickly. I'm wired to step in, to carry, to respond.

So when God said, "Move," I assumed He meant move immediately.

When he said "prepare," I took that to mean "help more."

When he said, " Wait, I felt responsible to fill the gap myself.

Not because God asked me to, but because love, when it isn't anchored, can still rush ahead of obedience. Unhealed places rush God. But so do good hearts that don't yet know how to rest.

Old patterns tell us peace is passivity. Fear confuses urgency with faithfulness.

And helpers, especially helpers, can mistake availability for assignment.

I wasn't just learning to hear God's voice. I was learning to notice what in me was responding.

The anxiety that pushed. The compassion that overreached. The part of me that believed loving well meant acting fast. The part that equated movement with faithfulness and stillness with neglect.

God didn't rebuke me for any of it. He didn't shame my heart. He slowed me downand healed the lens.

Because God doesn't just care that we hear Him. He cares how we hear Him.

He wants His voice received through wholeness, not wounds. Through love that's submitted, not self-assigned. That's when prayer changed for me. It stopped being only, "What should I do?"

And became, "Who am I listening to?" Am I responding from peaceor panic?

From calling or compulsion? From obedienceor a good heart that hasn't paused long enough to ask, "Is this mine?" That's where alignment began, not with louder direction, but with quieter discernment.

And that's where you are, too. Not mishearing God. Not lacking faith. Not loving too much.

Just learning to hear Him without the interference of wounds, habits, or even parts of yourself, before He says go.

Been there?

Jesus said, "My sheep hear My voice." And you will. That's His promise.

The truth I had to learn is this: Hearing God isn't the hard part. Slowing down enough to obey Him rightly is. Because sometimes God shows you a vision, and you mistake it for an instruction manual.

Sometimes, he whispers a promise, and you treat it like a permission slip to move immediately.

SometimeheHe says, "This is coming," and we hear, "This is now." I remember that moment so clearly. I felt God stirring something in me, a glimpse of what could be. My heart leapt. Finally, I thought.

What he was actually saying was, "Prepare. Pray. Wait." What I heard was, "Go. Now."

So I went.

I filled in the blanks He hadn't filled. I made decisions He hadn't authorized.

I built on foundations He hadn't finished laying. And when clarity finally came, I cried.

Not because God was angry. Not because I'd ruined everything. But because it hurt to realize I had misunderstood Him.

My relationship with Him is deep. And seeing everything through the lens of my own understandinginstead of Hiswas shattering.

Not because I felt like I'd failed Him or disappointed Him. But because my heart felt the pain I'd walked through, pain that could have looked different if I had waited, if I had understood.

And even in that realization, I felt His endless grace on me.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight" (Proverbs 3:5-6).

But it was also humbling. Because even in the places where my perspective was off, He still met me with grace.

And part of that healing came from finally becoming mindful of my own wiring, my instincts, my patterns, my fears, my need to make sense of things quickly.

Realizing how I'm wired wasn't shameful. It was freeing.

Because it showed me the places where I need His help most.

"Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139:23-24).

Surrendering those parts of myself, my assumptions, my reactions, my expectations, opened a new space for Him to guide me instead of me directing myself. And He didn't abandon me in that process.

He walked beside me, steady and gentle, allowing me to realign my course without condemnation.

"The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love" (Psalm 103:8).

I still learned the lessons. I still grew. And I still abide in Him.

Because God isn't threatened by my misunderstandings or my wiringHe works with them. He transforms them. He uses them as the very place where grace does its deepest work.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).

What shattered me also freed me. What humbled me also grounded me.

And through it all, He remained faithful, leading me, shaping me, and drawing me closer to who He is and who I'm becoming in Him.

"Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6).

And later, I realized something even more profound. I wasn't just learning to hear Him better.

I was learning who He actually is. You may not be standing in a place of failure at all.

Maybe you're simply standing in a place where you finally see the gap between who God is and who you expected Him to be.

That gap isn't failure. That gap is growth. It's the space where genuine faith develops.

Here's what still undoes me the best way: God didn't punish me for misunderstanding.

He didn't withdraw His presence. He met me with grace.

Even in my missteps, He was still working. Still teaching. Still redeeming.

His plans were never fragile. His purposes were never threatened.

And if you need to hear this today, listen to it clearly:

Even when you run ahead of God, He doesn't leave you behind.

He walks with you until your steps align again. He redeems detours. He finishes what He starts.

Friend, if you've ever misunderstood your part…

You're not disqualified.

You're being refined.

The same God who whispered the vision to you is still committed to bringing it to pass His way, His timing, His wisdom.

Trust Him with the waiting.

Trust Him with the process.

Trust Him even when you don't understand.

He's never let you go. 💛