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.