I’ve come to realize something about myself—I’m wired pretty tight. Now, I could call it “anxious,” but that word carries baggage. People often associate anxiety with being unsettled, unhappy, or unsatisfied, and that’s not what I mean.
My version of “anxious” is simply this: I want things to move faster than they do. I want progress. I want momentum. I want results yesterday.
That’s probably why I can’t play golf. The pace feels unbearable. Every time I’ve tried, I’m tempted to skip straight to the 18th hole just to get it over with. Let’s finish this thing already!
But here’s the catch—living life like that is exhausting. Always rushing, always straining against the slowness of the moment, always trying to control the clock. And I think that’s why God keeps whispering to me about timing. He knows I need the reminder.
The truth is, timing matters. Not just my timing, but the bigger rhythm—the one I don’t set. There are seasons when the waiting is the work. Seasons when moving slower is the lesson. Seasons when patience is shaping me in ways that speed never could.
That realization is part of why I began writing Momma Bear Meditations. It’s a practice that forces me to sit still, to breathe, to notice, and to trust that even in the waiting there is meaning. It’s not wasted time—it’s purposeful time.
So if you’re in a place right now where things feel stuck or too slow, take heart. Waiting isn’t weakness. It’s timing. And sometimes, it’s exactly what you need.
Pause and consider : Where are you rushing right now, and what would it look like to wait with trust instead of impatience?