WHEN GOD CALLS YOU AND PRESSES YOU IN THE SAME AREA

I’m currently fasting, and my mind feels everywhere at once, not because I’m confused about my faith, but because I’m finally sitting still long enough to feel what I’ve been carrying. I feel deep depression and anxiety, and I feel the ache of being misunderstood by people who expect me to keep pushing through and being strong, without realizing that so much of my strength was spent surviving for other people. I don’t feel there was ever space for me to fall completely, to rest without being needed, or to receive help that didn’t come with expectation. I remember my best friend telling me that with everything going on in my life and me being pulled in multiple directions, she was concerned about how this would affect me. I said I was fine, but over time that survival took pieces from me quietly, day by day, until I was telling myself I’m fighting for myself while slowly disappearing inside the fight.

I’m writing this for anyone who has felt that contradiction, the ones who love God, who want to walk in their calling, and who are exhausted from carrying both faith and survival at the same time. This is not a blog about answers or solutions, it’s a place to tell the truth out loud about what it feels like to wait, to fast, to pray, and to wonder why the very place you were called to rise feels like the place you’re being pressed the hardest.

“Being able to see the pattern does not make walking through it easier, it makes it 10-times harder, because awareness doesn’t numb the pain, it removes denial while you’re still required to live inside what you understand. ”

I’m realizing that when people have true callings on their lives, they’re often challenged in the very area God caused them to rise. An athlete may be injured. Someone gifted with numbers may struggle financially. A speaker or singer may lose their voice for a season. Someone great at public speaking may suffer with anxiety and feelings of not being good enough. A healer of mind, body, and energy may find their own mind under attack. A creator may have their work taken or their hands limited. The pattern repeats, and it raises an important question.

I can see the pattern. As someone who works with mind, body, and energy, I understand what’s happening when a calling is met with resistance in the same place it’s meant to flow from. I know this is not random. I know this doesn’t mean the calling is gone. I know delay does not equal denial. And still, knowing does not soften the experience the way people think it should.

Being able to see the pattern does not make walking through it easier, it makes it 10-times harder, because awareness doesn’t numb the pain, it removes denial while you’re still required to live inside what you understand. There is no pretending your way through it when you’re awake, no bypassing the grief, no intellectual explanation that lets your body off the hook. You’re present for all of it. The meaning and the ache existing at the same time.

This is the part of calling that rarely gets spoken about. Discernment carries responsibility. Insight carries exposure. And when you’re someone who can see what’s unfolding, you’re also someone who has to feel it fully, without the comfort of confusion to hide behind.

What does this mean for those who feel attacked in the place they were called? What do we do when we cry out to the Lord for help, and when we want to walk fully in our calling but feel delayed again and again? Sometimes all we can do is fast, pray, and wait, not as a way to force answers, but as a way to stay present while something deeper is being revealed.

The question is not how to push harder past bondage, but how to walk forward without abandoning ourselves again. How to enter our calling with support, honesty, and care, rather than survival disguised as strength.

I don’t have a clean answer for how long the waiting lasts, or why callings so often seem to be challenged in the same place they’re meant to flow from, but I’m learning that pushing harder isn’t what loosens bondage, and surviving isn’t the same thing as walking forward whole. There are seasons where God doesn’t release what we’re asking for, not because He’s withholding, but because something in us is still gripping, still protecting, still trying to manage the outcome instead of allowing change at the root.

“you’re not alone.”

Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is stop abandoning ourselves in the name of strength and start listening for what God is actually revealing beneath the struggle. There’s flesh that has to soften. There are identities that have to loosen their hold. There are ways we learned to survive that can’t follow us into what’s next, and realizing that can hurt, not because it’s cruel, but because it asks us to feel what we once avoided and let go of the version of ourselves that believed control was safety.

If you’re fasting, praying, waiting, or simply trying to breathe through a season that feels more demanding than it should, I want you to know you’re not alone in it, and you’re not behind. The work right now may not be movement, but attention, not striving, but honesty, not pushing past yourself, but allowing the ego to fall away so God can touch what’s been hidden at the root. And while that process can be uncomfortable, it isn’t without purpose, because sometimes walking into your calling doesn’t begin with action, it begins with being seen, being met, and allowing God to do the work only He can do, without explanation, without performance, and without you having to prove you’re ready.