When God Holds the Dream (Extended Version) What happens to a heart when hope runs late— when the thing you prayed for doesn’t show up on schedule, when the silence stretches longer than your strength? Does it sag like a burden too heavy to lift, dragging behind you like yesterday’s sorrow? Or does it crack like thunder, splitting open the sky till truth spills out in a storm of revelation? Maybe it trembles— a soul stretched thin on the wire, gripping the last thread of a promise God whispered through the burning bush of your life. (Exodus 3:2) Maybe it stiffens— like clay left too long in the sun, till the Potter breaks it, reshapes it, breathes purpose back into its dust. (Jeremiah 18:6) Or maybe— just maybe— it rises. Rises like breath in the chest of dry bones, when God leans close and speaks life into what was left for dead. (Ezekiel 37:5) Rises like dawn after a night that overstayed its welcome, when mercy steps in with new light folded in its hands. (Lamentations 3:22–23) Rises like faith that refuses to sit still, because nothing— not delay, not doubt, not the weight of waiting— can cancel His holy will. (Isaiah 46:10) So when the waiting aches and the journey feels long, don’t fold your praise or silence your song. For a dream deferred is not a dream denied— God stores it, stretches it, strengthens it, multiplies it inside. And when He moves— He moves like wind that clears the path, like oil that heals the cracks, like fire that burns away the fear, like truth that breaks open every buried desire. So hold on, child. Hold on, elder. Hold on, seeker. Hold on, builder. The Holy Will does not expire. It ripens. It deepens. It sets your soul on fire. And when it breaks through— you’ll know it was Him. Not luck. Not chance. Not the strength of your limb. But the God who keeps promises still keeping them now— Holy Will unfolding, holy purpose endowed.
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