ROOTED AGAIN: What God Taught Me In the Waiting Season
- The Rooted Mama
- Feb 19
- 3 min read
I didn’t mean to go quiet…
The last few months stretched my faith in ways I was never prepared for. I didn’t walk away from God… but I did feel unsure. The kind of unsure that keeps you up all night wondering if you’re still aligned, if you heard him right, if you’re doing this season of life the way you’re supposed to.
Prayer felt quieter. Not absent. Just quieter. And in the middle of moving boxes, remodeling, new routines, and trying to be steady for my family, I realized I didn’t feel steady myself, at all. I wasn’t losing my faith. I was just in a season where God was asking me to trust him without the comfort of constant reassurance. And that was heavy.
Somewhere along the way, my relationship with God slowly slipped from first priority to “I’ll get to it later.” And that’s hard for me to admit. I never intended it to be that way.
I took on more hours at work. We moved. We remodeled. I was exhausted physically and mentally. And instead of running to God, I kept hitting snooze. On my alarm and on my time with him. My mornings stopped beginning with Scripture and prayer. They began with rushing. Snoozing. Scrambling. And when I rushed into my day disconnected, everything felt off. My patience, my mood, even the way I mothered.
It didn’t happen all at once. It happened slowly. Through small compromises, small excuses, small moments where I chose survival over surrender.
Church became another thing on the list instead of the place that refilled me. I stopped feeling fed the way I needed to be. I wasn’t leaning in, I was distracted. Struggling to focus. Wondering why I felt so dry spiritually but not wanting to admit that something needed to change.
One of the hardest and most necessary decisions in this season was walking into a new church.
I wrestled with it longer than I want to admit. Was I just being emotional? Was I expecting something different when the real work needed to happen with me? I didn’t want to make a move out of frustration. I wanted to move in obedience.
That first Sunday felt vulnerable. New faces. New worship. New rhythms. I remember sitting there praying, “Lord, if this is where you want us, make it clear to me.”
And he did.
From that very first song, I felt it. The worship was exactly what my heart had been longing for – not just music, but movement in my spirit. It felt alive. It felt sincere. I wasn’t just singing words; I was meeting with God again. The preaching was powerful and clear, like it was speaking directly into the season I had just walked through. Every point felt intentional. Every scripture landed. I wasn’t distracted. I wasn’t fighting to focus. I was fully present—and I could feel the holy spirit the entire time.
It wasn’t subtle—it was undeniable. Tears came before I even realized they were forming. Not from sadness, but from relief. Relief that God hadn’t left me and had been guiding us here all along. When I looked over and saw my daughter engaged, happy and truly loving it. I knew this wasn’t just for me. This was for our family. For our growth. For our foundation.
That service didn’t just encourage me. It awakened something in me. I walked out lighter. Clearer. Aligned. Not because everything in life was suddenly perfect, but because I knew I was exactly where God wanted me to be.
What I see now is that God never moved—even when I felt distant, even when I let exhaustion and excuses crowd him out. He wasn’t punishing me. He was positioning me. All I can say to this right here is, AMEN.
The waiting wasn’t wasted. The stretching wasn’t random. He was teaching me that faith isn’t built on comfort or routine, it’s built on surrender. And when I finally stepped into obedience, he met me in a way I will never forget.
This season didn’t break me, it built me. It reminded me that being rooted doesn’t mean I won’t feel shaken. It means I know where to return when I am. God was faithful in the quiet, faithful in the stretching, and faithful in the restoration. And as I step into this new chapter, in a new home, a new church, and a renewed rhythm—I’m not striving to be perfect. I’m simply choosing to stay planted. Because when you’re planted in him, even the waiting seasons grow something beautiful.
“Blessed is the one who trusts In the Lord… They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.” Jeremiah 17:7-8
With Love,
Destiny
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