“He whispered to my soul that fallow seasons aren’t meant for hurry. They’re meant to undo the hardwired muscle memory of labor, to reorient our bodies, minds, and souls to the unrushed pace of God. They’re meant to teach us to dance to the unforced rhythms of grace.
Fallow seasons are meant to bring life in a way it hadn’t been before. They aren’t seasons of death though it may look like it on the surface for a moment. Instead, they are the transition period between death and new life, between ashes and beauty.
The transition is slow. When all the sanctifying of my character and the healing of old wounds in the wilderness season didn’t magically turn into blossoms, my impatient self was confused. I expected it to be more like a time-lapsed video where a seed sprouts into a flower in just a couple of minutes. But God has the clarity of seeing things from eternity to eternity. He is not bound by time, and so He is patient. He is never annoyed with the slowness of transformation but always delights in the intricate care of redeeming burned things. And He is not done with us in the midst of fallow seasons.”