“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” — Isaiah 43:2
There are seasons in life when the dream feels distant…. the vision is blurry…. and the promises you’ve been holding onto with white-knuckled faith feel like they’re hanging by a single thread.
I know that space all too well.
It’s the space between what God said and what I’m seeing right now. It’s the detour road. The delay zone. The wilderness between the word and the wonder.
And yet, my friend, delayed is not denied.
The Detour That Almost Derailed Me
Years ago, I was running my dream tea room business—serving fancy teas, dressing up in fascinators, and loving on people one scone at a time. I was thriving, flourishing, and thinking, “This is it, God. This is the dream You put in me.”
But then, shortly after my 40th birthday, the call came.
Not a prophetic call. Not a business opportunity. A diagnosis: Cancer.
I remember staring at the walls, my mind spinning. How could this be happening now—when everything was going right? Hadn’t I been faithful? Wasn’t I finally walking in my calling? And now, suddenly, my dreams were buried beneath hospital gowns, scans, and a diagnosis that threatened everything I had built.
But I heard the Lord whisper in that season: “This is not the end of your story.”
Refining Fire and Furnace Faith
It reminded me of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in Daniel 3.
They didn’t get around the fire. They got in the fire. But they weren’t alone.
The same God who stood in the flames with those three men was with me through every test, every sleepless night, and every moment of wrestling with fear.
I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t always feel hopeful. But I clung to faith like it was my oxygen. And somewhere in that fire—He was refining me.
You see, detours don’t destroy the dream. They purify it. They clarify it. They anchor it in something deeper than good vibes and Pinterest boards. My faith muscles were getting stretched and strengthened in ways that no mountaintop could have done.
Yes, cancer interrupted my life. But it couldn’t cancel the call. The promise hadn’t expired. It just got refined.
Dreams After the Delay
Fast forward to today, and let me tell you—my dreams look different, but they’re more powerful than ever.
I’m preaching. I’m writing. I’m speaking to lives around the world. I’m doing it with fire that came from the furnace.
God didn’t bring me back to where I was before. He brought me through to something brand new.
I thought the tearoom was the pinnacle. But He was just getting started. What I thought was the finish line was really the launching pad.
Lessons From the Delay Zone
Let me give you a few things I’ve learned in this delay-but-not-denied season. Because if you’re in the middle of a delay right now, you’re not alone… and it’s not over.
1. Let yourself grieve, but don’t let go.
Yes, there’s disappointment. There are tears. Don’t bottle them up. But don’t release your grip on the promise just because the timeline doesn’t match your planner.
Your tears are not a sign of failure. They’re fertilizer. Even Jesus wept before a miracle.
2. Worship while you wait.
Some days I couldn’t pray in full sentences. But I could worship. I’d turn on praise music in the middle of appointments, in the car, and at home. Worship changed the atmosphere when I didn’t know how to change my reality.
When you sing in the furnace, it confuses the enemy and strengthens your soul.
3. Reframe the detour as a training ground.
I used to ask, “Why me?” But then I started asking, “What are You doing to me through this?”
Detours are where destiny is forged. The delay isn’t punishment—it’s preparation. The battles you’re facing today are equipping you for the people you’re called to help tomorrow.
4. Keep dreaming—with open hands.
I didn’t stop dreaming when I got sick. But I did learn to surrender those dreams daily. What I pictured at 30 looked different than what God had in mind at 40. But His version was infinitely better, deeper, and more lasting.
If your dream has taken a detour, don’t throw it away—offer it back to the Dream-Giver. He’ll resurrect it in the right time, in the right way, with His fingerprint all over it.
5. Surround yourself with faith-filled people.
You can’t afford to walk through delay with doubters. Find your faith crew—the ones who remind you of what God said when you forget. People who speak life, not limits.
When I was weak, others held me up. They prayed, they prophesied, they brought popcorn and hope. Sometimes the miracle is in the people God sends to walk with you.
The Fire Lit the Dream
Here’s the thing nobody tells you: Sometimes, it’s the delay that actually lights the dream on fire.
Because of the cancer journey, I learned how to trust God on a whole new level. Because of the detour, my voice carries weight I never had before. Because of the delay, I see people with deeper compassion, bolder faith, and unshakable hope.
So if you’re in a season where the dream feels delayed… of you’re staring at a closed door or a diagnosis or a disappointment… I want you to know—God hasn’t forgotten you.
You’re not disqualified. You’re being refined, not rejected. The dream isn’t dead. It’s just under construction.
What You Can Do Today
Here are 5 practical things you can do if you’re in that delay season right now:
- Write down your dream again (Habakkuk 2:2 style). Even if it feels broken, put it on paper. God isn’t finished yet.
- Pray out loud—even if it’s messy or short. God hears whispers and war cries.
- Journal what God has done. Gratitude resets your spirit.
- Declare scripture every morning. Try Isaiah 43:2, Romans 8:28, and Psalm 27:13.
- Do the next faithful thing. Maybe it’s a walk. A worship playlist. A phone call to a prayer partner. Small steps make a big impact when led by faith.
Final Thoughts From My Heart to Yours
Don’t confuse delay with denial. Don’t give up just because the fire got hot. Sometimes, God lets us walk through the fire not to burn us… but to brand us with purpose.
Your story isn’t over—it’s unfolding.
And just like He was with me in the medical rooms, in the dark days of divorce, and on the other side of every detour—He’s with you too. Right now. Hold on. Keep believing. Keep showing up.
The dream might look different—but it’s not over. It might even be bigger.
And you, sweet sister, are just getting started! 💖