As the year comes to a close, many of us are reflecting on where we are versus where we hoped we’d be. This season can feel uncomfortable — especially when it seems like everyone else is celebrating while you’re quietly waiting.
But waiting doesn’t mean wasted.
God equips us for the uncomfortable seasons. There is purpose in the pause, growth in the stillness, and assignment even when life feels at a standstill. You can thank God for now while still trusting Him for next.
If this season feels heavy, stay encouraged. God will show up, your tears will turn to joy, and His promises will manifest — right on time.
Life has a way of surprising us. Sometimes those surprises are filled with joy, and other times they arrive as challenges that shake our routines, shift our plans, and test our faith. In our latest Lesson in Everyday podcast episode, host LaToya Jackson sat down with a very special guest—her mother, Mrs. Vickye Jefferson—to talk about a truth we all face: what to do when the unexpected happens.
Mrs. Jefferson reminds us of a powerful foundation: nothing takes God by surprise. What may feel sudden to us is already known by Him. He sees the end from the beginning, and even in moments of uncertainty, His peace is still available.
So how do we respond when life throws the unexpected our way?
1. Remain Calm
Panic only magnifies the problem. Taking a deep breath, pausing, and reminding ourselves that God is still in control is the first step to keeping steady. Calmness is not weakness—it’s strength anchored in trust.
2. Lean Into the Peace of God
Philippians 4:7 tells us that “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” This peace is not tied to circumstances. It’s a divine gift that steadies us even when life feels unstable.
3. Trust That God Is Never Surprised
The situation may be new to us, but it is not new to Him. That truth alone can ease our anxieties. God is already in the moment, working all things together for good (Romans 8:28).
Mrs. Jefferson’s wisdom reminds us that when life changes in an instant, our faith doesn’t have to. The unexpected may alter our plans, but it doesn’t alter God’s promises.
Takeaway: The next time you face the unexpected, pause and breathe. Ask God for His peace, and remember that what caught you off guard was already in His sight. You are not alone, and you are not unprepared—because you serve a God who sees all and knows all.
✨ Tune in to the full podcast episode to hear more of Mrs. Vickye Jefferson’s heart and wisdom on walking through life’s unexpected moments with faith and calm assurance.
A dim flashlight becomes my companion as I search — again and again — for my blackout sleep band. My heart feels heavy, my body aches, and my tears are on standby — ready to fall, ready to say what words sometimes cannot.
Lightning cracks. Thunder shakes the walls of this house. Everyone else sleeps.
But not me. Not tonight.
Maybe not even this morning.
Pain — sharp, relentless — runs up and down my back. But here I am, writing — not because I want to, but because I have to. I need to get this out of me before it drowns me on the inside.
This is real.
This is raw.
This is me.
I find myself in a place I never thought I’d see again — a familiar yet foreign space. It’s hard when those around you — siblings, family — think they know what’s best for you when they’ve never walked a day in your shoes.
They question my decisions like they lived my journey.
They critique my choices as if they’ve held my pain.
Where were you when I lived oceans away?
Where were your calls of understanding?
Where was your compassion then?
And now, because I’ve returned — temporarily — to my birthplace, I find myself wanting to erase my number, hide away in a cave, disappear in peace.
It’s not isolation — it’s preservation. It’s healing.
Only those who have walked with me — those from the community I’ve built and grown to love — understand the depth of this season I’m in. They get the silent victories. They know the dark nights. They understand what survival with grace looks like.
But those who never knew my first chapter now want to narrate my story? No.
If you haven’t lived it with me, don’t try to rewrite it for me.
I am tired of the noise.
I am exhausted from assumptions.
Sometimes the best thing you can offer me is silence. Let my slow responses speak volumes. Let my absence be my boundary.
Blood may connect us — but that doesn’t mean you’re aligned with this season of my life.
I know who leads me — Jesus.
I know who holds me — Jesus.
I know who heals me — Jesus.
And I am fine with just Him.
He speaks — I listen.
He leads — I follow.
He restores — I recover.
There is no greater peace than knowing I am in His will — even when others can’t understand it.
So let me exhale.
Let me be.
Respect my space. Respect my voice.
I am not who I once was. I am evolving. I am becoming. And whether or not you choose to see me or hear me — that’s on you.
Some things will be kept only in your journal. Everyone won’t have access to it and not everyone will know about it. Some things will be kept dear to your heart. Some memories will only be remembered from the pages you personally wrote in your journal. Not everyone will know every single day of your waiting season. Not everyone will have read about your puddles you set in while you waited, worked, worshipped, and willingly watched. Not everyone will know the amount of love you gave, shared, and expressed through your lowest of low, worse or worst. Not everyone will read about your prayers you sent up every night, throughout the day, and morning sealed with love and sincerity. Not everyone will know or read the pages you wrote personally. Yet, the ones who sincerely stick around, ask, assigned to your journey, or simply listen for it, they will read it.
A Woman Who Looks at Her Hand Awaiting for Her Appointed Time; What You See is Her Spoken For; What She Sees is Herself Becoming in Her Waiting Season