I didn’t mean to say yes. Not to everything. Certainly not to leading a mission trip to Puerto Rico just days from now—something that sounded fun and fulfilling several months ago. But ask me today, in the thick of a season that is stretching me in every direction, and you might hear a long exhale before an honest, “Not now. Not in this season.”

Some of what’s weighing on me is undeniably good…meaningful work, opportunities to grow, sacred invitations to serve. And some of it is heavy in ways that ache quietly beneath the surface…ongoing concerns about loved ones’ health, looming decisions, and worries that demand more than I have to give. All of it together with the regular busyness of life? It’s just…a lot. (But isn’t that what most of us are wrestling with these days?)

So, when I’m feeling stretched, how does God show up?

Through the wise words of a friend.

I was recently lamenting about my yeses that came before I knew the season I would be in. My friend listened and then responded with a simple, “God knew. God knew all of this before you got here today.”

Truth.

He knew this would be the season I’d walk into. He knew what would land on my plate, what would stretch my calendar, and what would test my energy and emotions. He knew how much would be asked of me. And He still allowed it. Not out of cruelty or oversight (because that is 100% the opposite of His character), but because He will surely provide something in it. (Romans 8:28) My friend also pointed out that if I knew everything that was going to happen, I would have said ‘no’ to leading the mission trip. I would have missed out on what He has for me.

Provision, I’m slowly learning, doesn’t always look like ease. And sometimes, to receive and even recognize provision, I need to change my perspective.

I’ve noticed lately that my ability to recognize God’s provision is directly tied to my perspective. When I’m rushing, overwhelmed, or simply in survival mode, I miss the small but sacred ways He shows up for me every day. But when I slow down—even for a moment—gratitude can sharpen my vision. It helps me recognize His fingerprints on the things I might otherwise brush off as coincidence or circumstance. The encouraging text that arrived right when I needed it. The energy to keep going when I had nothing left. The conversation with a friend that reminded me I’m not alone. These aren’t random. They’re reminders. Evidence of His mercy, love, and care that I would miss if I wasn’t looking for them.

Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

Those verses are a grounding truth. They remind us that every morning, before the stress has a chance to pile up, God’s mercy is already waiting. Fresh. Steady. Unfailing.

Provision as Preparation

There’s another kind of provision I’m reflecting on in this season. One that happens not in the moment, but in advance. It’s the kind we often miss because it doesn’t look like help at first.

Think about the Israelites and manna in the wilderness (Exodus 16). Or the widow whose last jar of oil multiplied miraculously in 2 Kings 4. In both stories, God’s provision came not in abundance but through daily faithfulness, and often, just in time.

That’s how He works, isn’t it?

Sometimes provision looks like margin you didn’t expect, or a canceled meeting that opens up your day. Sometimes it’s the resilience built through a season that once felt barren. And sometimes, it even looks like pruning.

When something is removed, delayed, or stripped back, it can feel like loss. But I’ve seen, time and time again, that what God takes away is often the very thing that’s making space for something better—something more aligned with His purpose for us.

I can sense that even this overwhelming season is a kind of preparation. God is setting something aside not just for me, but in me. He’s building endurance (and hopefully some much-needed grace!) He’s teaching me to depend on Him more deeply and showing me that His provision isn’t just about meeting needs, it’s about forming character, fruit by fruit.

And honestly, that’s a bit harder than I want it to be! I’d prefer the kind of provision that feels light and easy! Who doesn’t?! But I’m starting to understand the deeper gift: a God who prepares us for the journey ahead, who sees the whole path when we can barely see the next step. Again, a reminder—He knew.

It’s tempting to wish this season away fast. To long for a clear schedule and more manageable circumstances. And while there’s nothing wrong with hoping for relief, I don’t want to miss what God is doing now. Because I know He hasn’t forgotten me in this. He’s not scrambling to catch up or figure out a rescue plan or how to help me deal with things. He knew this would be the week I’d be packing for Puerto Rico with both a heavy and a full heart, and an even fuller to-do list. He knew this would be a season when I’d carry concern for people I love. He knew this would be a season when provision wouldn’t always look like extra, but rather enough.

And still—He said, “Go.” “I’ve got you.” His mercy shows up, morning after morning.

Last night, my son reminded me of what’s tattooed right on my ankle: Be still. (And yes, you know you’re struggling if your 16-year-old recognizes you need a breath!) If you’re in a similar space right now, where the pace is relentless, and the needs feel unending, please join me in pausing for a minute. Take note of just one small way you’ve been provided for today. Write it down. And then do it again tomorrow. And the next day….

Start a journal, even if it’s just a sticky note or a note in your phone. Watch with me how God shows up in the details—not just to get us through, but to remind us He’s with us in it. Because sometimes, the provision we most need is the perspective to see that we are not alone, forgotten, or overlooked. We are loved, led, and carried. And that is more than enough.

Please pray with me:

Lord, I am so grateful to be reminded that You go before me in this season. That You knew. Thank You for the peace found in provision that only You can provide. Please forgive me when I do not trust that You are with me in it all. Please help me to slow down and pause each day to see the ways You are providing. And thank You in advance for abundance that will surely follow. You are so good to love me with such mercy and grace. In Jesus name I pray, Amen.