Deciding to leave was neither flippant nor rash. From the outside it probably seemed irresponsible to *leave a job with nothing lined up, but my decision was backed by months of prayer and fasting, the support of family and friends, no debt and a healthy savings account.

While being responsible was a consideration, at the very heart of my decision to leave was obedience. And obedience does not always look responsible, comfortable or safe; it is demanding with no middle ground or grey area: there is only obedience and disobedience.

At first my obedience felt like relief, a gift of time and space and rest. Entering the slow season of waiting brought about the welcomed work of weeding, pruning, healing, growth and change. A chance to begin untangling the roots of my faith from the prosperity of American culture and the privileged lens from which I have always interpreted scripture. It has been simultaneously one of the best and hardest times of my life.

I know this season has been a privilege afforded to few, and I am grateful and thankful for the space to write, travel, spend extended time with loved ones, and the freedom to say yes to some incredible opportunities. I am so very grateful.

And, honestly, I’m ready for change, for doors to be opened. My expected timeline for this season has long since expired, and I find myself sitting in the wake of disappointment and resentment. Expectations, I realize, are my attempts to manipulate and control, to try to put a comfort zone around the discomfort of the unknown.

However, obedience in faith does not guarantee ease, nor does it promise an exemption from struggle. This is not my story of overcoming the hard and receiving a breakthrough, (yet!), but rather it is an invitation to meet me here, in the messy middle of the waiting.

The past weeks I have felt overlooked and forgotten. In fact, completely abandoned. I have cried and pleaded in desperation, the questions and doubts answered only with a deafening and resounding silence.

My feelings have refused to align themselves with the truth I know and believe, and there are days when I have neglected scripture altogether. The familiar words seem distant and unrelatable. Far from inspired. My wild emotions and feelings have kept me in a vicious cycle of self-pity, doubt, anger and fear. An ugly and isolating space.

But, just as my obedience does not merit exemption from struggle, (thankfully) neither do my feelings of doubt prevent the Lord from extending grace and mercy. In an act of kindness, the Lord used the story of a baby bird named Lala to redirect my focus and renew my hope.

Carlos Whittaker introduced the world to Lala and her family. What started as a celebration of new life quickly turned to devastation as an owl viciously attacked the nest containing Lala and her nestling siblings while their devoted mother was out gathering food. A tragedy for a sweet little robin family.

Miraculously, though, Lala survived the attack and the fall from the nest. Carlos and his family cared for Lala over the next 24 hours and found a wildlife rescue that agreed to provide the care Lala needed in her tender state at just three days old. Through regular updates, tens of thousands of viewers watched Lala struggle to survive and celebrated her every emotional victory together. Today, Lala, affectionately called the princess of the Middle Tennessee Wildlife Rescue, is growing healthy and strong, and will soon be released. (You can watch Lala’s full story on Carlos’s Instagram highlights and with #lalalives.)

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?

Matthew 6:26 (NASB)

Sometimes we receive a visual reminder of spiritual truth. Even without Lala this verse is true, but how gracious of the Lord to allow me, in some small way, to share in her story and reclaim forgotten truths about my own.

Over the past several days I have been wrestling with this question: do I actually believe that I am worth much more than the creation for which the Lord so lavishly provides? Do I really believe this to be true for me?

I can believe without a doubt that you are worthy and that God has big plans for you. Absolutely and amen.

But, what about me? Do I believe this for me right here, right now?

The answer is a resounding yes. It has to be. Yes. Yes. Yes. My feelings and current circumstances will not have the final say. If the Lord went out of his way to care and provide for a bird named Lala, how much more will he care and provide for me? For you?

And as I begin to reclaim the truth of my own worth, I find a renewed hope beginning to fill the spaces that have recently felt hopeless.

After all, I know the very Hope of the world, the One who refuses to leave or forsake anyone, the God who is always faithful.

I don’t need another inspirational quote or pep talk in this season of waiting, I need only to remember who I am. Whose I am.

Even here, with my fickle emotions and my circumstances as unchanging as they may be, may I be audacious in my faith, expectant that the Lord not only hears, but will answer my cries for help.

It would be easy for me to write about the purpose and omit the pain of this season. But the struggle is where we link arms in courage, where we gain endurance and perseverance and where our faith is strengthened for all this is to come.

In every season I pray that we would be a people who proclaim the goodness of the Lord. The answers may not arrive in our timing or look the way we expect, but may we cling to the truth that every promise is yes and amen, in the name of Jesus.

Every promise.

Yes and amen.

Carlos Whittaker is an author and speaker. His books include Moment Maker and Kill the Spider. You can follow him @loswhit.

*For the sake of clarity, I am not advising anyone to quit their job. I do not condone reckless or careless actions. Obedience in faith, along with convictions, are deeply personal and spiritual; they should always be upheld with mindfulness with care.