This Too Shall Pass

The strength to trust God when life feels uncertain.

There are seasons in life that seem to stretch longer than we ever imagined.

The phone doesn't ring.

The promotion doesn't come.

The marriage feels distant.

The diagnosis changes everything.

The bills continue to arrive.

The prayers feel unanswered.

You smile for everyone else while quietly wondering...

"Lord...when will this end?"

If you've ever found yourself asking that question, I want you to know something today:

You are not alone.

One of the greatest misconceptions about difficult seasons is believing they were sent to destroy us. Often, they are developing something within us that comfort never could.

Pain has a way of slowing us down long enough to examine what we've been too busy to notice.

Disappointment exposes misplaced expectations.

Waiting strengthens patience.

Loss reveals what truly matters.

Silence teaches us to hear God's voice more clearly.

Although none of us would volunteer for hardship, some of life's greatest transformations are born inside seasons we never would have chosen.

The beautiful truth is this:

Every season has an expiration date.

Even winter eventually gives way to spring.

Because today's grace was never designed to carry tomorrow's worries.

Why difficult seasons feel so overwhelming

Psychologists describe uncertainty as one of the greatest contributors to emotional distress. Research has shown that the human brain often perceives uncertainty as more stressful than certainty—even when the certain outcome may not be favorable.

When we don't know what comes next, our minds begin filling in the blanks.

"What if things never change?"

"What if I never recover?"

"What if this is as good as life gets?"

Those thoughts quietly become beliefs.

Those beliefs become emotions.

Those emotions begin shaping our decisions.

Before long, we're carrying burdens that haven't even happened.

This is why Scripture repeatedly calls us back to the present.

Not tomorrow.

Not next month.

Not five years from now.

Today.

Because today's grace was never designed to carry tomorrow's worries.

"This too shall pass" is more than a comforting phrase

Although the exact phrase doesn't appear in Scripture, its truth echoes throughout the entire Bible.

Ecclesiastes reminds us:

"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven."

Every season.

Not some.

Every.

That means your current season isn't permanent.

Your pain isn't permanent.

Your disappointment isn't permanent.

Your uncertainty isn't permanent.

Neither is your fear.

God has never confused a season with a destination.

Sometimes we do.

Growth often looks like breaking before blooming

We celebrate flowers.

Few people celebrate the seed.

Yet before a seed ever reaches sunlight, it first disappears beneath dark soil.

It breaks apart.

It feels buried.

It appears forgotten.

But everything happening beneath the surface is preparing it for the life above it.

Many women feel buried...

Buried in heartbreak.

Buried in pain.

Buried in disappointment.

Buried in generational dysfunction.

Buried in dept and financial obligations.

Buried in her mind and thoughts...

When, in reality, they are being planted.

There is a profound difference.

Being buried suggests the story is over.

Being planted means something beautiful is still coming.

Perhaps this season isn't the end of your story.

Perhaps it's simply where your roots are growing deeper than your eyes can yet see.

Trust, I know that it seems like there is no end in sight, the outcome is too bleak; especially when the world tries to dictate your outcomes....and doesn't allow you to catch your breath,

Take rest in knowing, God has NEVER used the word 'seems'. Which means that He is ALWAYS certain...about You.

Four ways to endure while you're waiting

Waiting doesn't have to mean standing still.

Here are four intentional practices that can strengthen you while life unfolds.

1. Feel your emotions without allowing them to lead you.

Ignoring pain doesn't heal it.

Name it.

Write it down.

Pray through it.

Be kind to yourself by granting the permission to cry.

To release the weight you carry in your chest.

Talk to someone you trust.

Emotions are wonderful indicators.

They simply make poor leaders.

2. Stop asking, "Why is this happening to me?"

Instead ask,

"What is this season trying to teach me?"

That one question shifts you from victimhood into growth.

Sometimes God changes our circumstances.

Other times He changes us inside our circumstances.

Both are miracles.

3. Focus on what remains instead of what you've lost.

Loss naturally commands our attention.

Gratitude intentionally redirects it.

Even during difficult seasons...

You still have breath.

You still have purpose.

You still have gifts.

You still have opportunities.

You still have God.

And as long as those things remain, hope remains too.

4. Remember who has carried you before.

Pause for a moment.

Think back.

There were seasons you believed you would never survive.

Yet here you are.

Stronger.

Wiser.

More compassionate.

More discerning.

You didn't arrive here because life became easy.

You arrived because God remained faithful.

The same God who carried you then has not suddenly become absent now.

Just because you cannot trace Him, does not mean that you cannot trust Him.

That sacred space where the old chapter has ended, but the new one has not yet begun.The place where your prayers have been spoken, but the answers have not yet arrived.

Becoming through the waiting

One of the most valuable lessons I have learned didn't come during my victories.

It came during what I call the middle times—the in-between.

That sacred space where the old chapter has ended, but the new one has not yet begun.

The place where your prayers have been spoken, but the answers have not yet arrived.

The place where God seems quiet.

For years, I didn't know how to sit in those seasons.

I knew how to hustle.

I knew how to grind.

I knew how to work harder than everyone around me.

If a door didn't open, I would build one.

If an opportunity didn't come, I would chase it.

If life became uncertain, I believed the answer was simply to work longer, think harder, run faster, and outlast everyone else.

I wore my grind like a badge of honor.

I believed it reflected my strength.

My tenacity.

My determination.

My discipline.

Most of all, I believed it proved that I was in control.

But somewhere along the journey, God lovingly revealed something I had never stopped long enough to see.

My grind wasn't rooted in confidence.

It was rooted in fear.

Fear of failing.

Fear of being overlooked.

Fear of someone passing me by.

Fear of appearing vulnerable.

Fear that if I ever stopped moving, everything I had built would somehow fall apart.

So I kept moving.

I rescued.

I fixed.

I carried.

I overperformed.

I exhausted myself trying to accomplish what only God could orchestrate.

Please don't misunderstand me.

Hard work is honorable.

Excellence matters.

Discipline produces fruit.

Those things have their place.

But they also come with a cost when they are driven by fear instead of purpose.

You lose quality relationships.

You miss unforgettable moments.

You sacrifice your peace.

And before you realize it, you've surrendered your greatest commodity—

time.

Today, I've learned something entirely different.

I've learned to sit.

To sit in the silence.

To sit in the uncertainty.

To sit in the waiting.

To sit in the moments that appear empty but are quietly full of God's unseen work.

Because I've discovered something beautiful:

Just because nothing appears to be happening doesn't mean nothing is happening.

Heaven is always working where human eyes cannot yet see.

Nothing is wasted.

Not the waiting.

Not the disappointment.

Not the delay.

Not even the tears.

I've also learned that movement and progress are not the same thing.

Just because you're constantly moving doesn't mean you're actually going anywhere.

Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is remain still long enough to hear God's direction before taking your next step.

Those steps usually become sure.

Learning to endure the quiet season has become one of my greatest superpowers.

Because stillness isn't weakness.

It is preparation.

It is where God fortifies your character before He expands your influence.

It is where your roots grow deeper than your branches grow wide.

So that when He releases you into your next season, you are equipped.

You are anchored.

You are strengthened.

You are not easily shaken.

You become like the tree planted beside calm waters, whose roots run deep beneath the surface. When strong winds come—and they always do—you remain standing, not because life has been easy, but because your foundation has become unshakable.

So if you find yourself in the middle times...

Don't rush them.

Don't resent them.

Don't become angry and bitter.

Don't mistake God's silence for His absence.

When you can't trace Him...trust Him.

Sit with Him.

Listen.

Grow.

Heal.

Trust.

Because just as morning always follows the night...

Just as the sun always breaks through after the rain...

Just as every season eventually gives way to another...

This too shall pass.

Your Glow Up Challenge

This week, I invite you to begin a simple daily practice.

Each evening, write down these three reflections:

• What challenged me today?

• Where did I see God's faithfulness today?

• What strength did I discover in myself that I didn't know I possessed?

By the end of the week, you'll begin noticing something remarkable.

Your circumstances may not have changed yet—

but you have.

And sometimes that is the very beginning of everything changing.

Final Thoughts

If today feels heavy…

Take a deep breath.

You have survived every difficult chapter life has placed before you.

This chapter is no different.

Storms don't ask permission before they arrive.

But neither do sunrises.

Keep believing.

Keep praying.

Keep healing.

Keep showing up.

One day you'll look back on this season and realize it wasn't sent to break you.

It came to build a woman who would one day inspire someone else to keep going.

Because this...

This too shall pass.

Reflection Question

What season of your life have you been treating as permanent that may simply be preparing you for your next chapter?

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Share your reflection in the comments or connect with us inside The Becoming Circle™, where women are choosing healing, purpose, and growth—together.

"She didn't become the woman she was meant to be by avoiding life's storms. She became her by walking through them with faith, courage, and intention."

With intention,

Latonia A. Dior

Founder | The Formule'

"Helping women stop surviving and start becoming—one intentional step at a time."

Scripture for the Week

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning." — Psalm 30:5 (NKJV)