38. What Is God Doing While I Wait? The Purpose in the Pause Between Calling and Commission

You know what you're called to. That's what makes the waiting so hard. You've prayed, prepared, and positioned yourself as best you know how. And still the door stays shut. The opportunity doesn't materialize. And over time the silence starts to speak — maybe I missed God, maybe I did something wrong, maybe He changed His mind about me.

This episode goes directly into the waiting room — the season between the call and the commission — and asks the question most calling conversations never answer honestly: what is God actually doing while you wait? Drawing from Justin's own book The Purpose in the Pause, from the lives of Joseph, Moses, and David, and from Scripture's most honest descriptions of divine silence, this episode reframes the waiting season from empty time to the most intentional formation work God does in a person's life.

In this episode, we discuss:

• The specific grief that comes from knowing your calling and watching nothing move — and why it deserves to be named honestly
• The difference between being stuck and being stationed — and why that distinction changes everything
• The three specific things God is doing in the waiting room: working in you, working around you, and protecting you from premature elevation
• What Psalm 105:17-19 says about Joseph — "till the word of the Lord proved him true"
• Why Abraham and Saul's impatience cost them more than the wait ever would have
• The Silent Saturday framework — what the day between crucifixion and resurrection teaches about divine silence
• What partnering with the wait looks like practically versus passively enduring it
• A direct word for the person who walked through the door they waited for and found themselves in a new kind of waiting room

Key Scripture references: Psalm 105:17-19, Romans 8:28, Isaiah 40:31, Isaiah 64:4, Genesis 16, 1 Samuel 13

Perfect for: Christians in a long season of waiting on God, believers who know their calling but can't see the commission, people who feel stuck while everyone around them seems to be moving forward, anyone who has experienced the grief of a delayed or disappointed promise, men and women asking why God is taking so long.

Part of our series: The Calling Arc — Part 2 of The Formation Trilogy (Episodes 34-42) Follow-up to Episode 37: "How Do I Know My Calling? What Jeremiah 1 Says That Most People Never Hear" Next episode — Episode 39: "What Do You Do When You Can't See the Assignment Clearly?"

Featured resource: The Purpose in the Pause by Justin Belt — available wherever books are sold

Connect with us via our Instagram: @faithformed_pod

Email us any questions or comments to yourpursuitpodcast@gmail.com

Order your copy of my latest book, "The Purpose in the Pause", here

Learn more about me at www.justindbelt.com

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

You know what you're called to do. And that's the part that makes this so hard. If you didn't know, if the calling had never been placed inside of you, like if the vision had never been given, and if God had never whispered anything into your spirit, then the waiting would at least make a different kind of sense. You'd be waiting for a word, waiting for direction. You'd be waiting for the thing to begin. But that's not where you are. You know. You've known for probably a long time. You know the call is real. You you've prayed on it and you've sat with it and you've built your life around its edges. You've prepared and you've said yes. You've positioned yourself as best as you know how, and still nothing moves. The door stays shut, the people don't show, the opportunity doesn't materialize, the breakthrough that you were certain was right around the corner. It keeps not coming. And you wake up every morning carrying the call like a weight in your chest that nobody else can see. And over time, slowly, without you fully noticing, that same waiting starts to speak. First it's a whisper. Maybe I missed God. Then it's louder. Maybe I did something to disqualify myself. And then if you stay in the waiting long enough, the loudest lie of all, maybe God changed his mind about me. See that one? This episode is about that place. And it's not a rush to get you out of it. And it's not to give you a three-step strategy for getting to the other side faster. But it's to tell you what is actually happening while you wait. Because something is. Welcome to Faith Formed. I'm your host, Justin. And this is the uh the podcast about honest faith for people who don't have it all together. This is episode 38 in part two of the calling arc. And last episode we established how calling actually works. That it's not an actual event that we're waiting for, but it's an identity that you already have. It was established before you were born, before you were known by God, before you even had a single result to show for it. And today we're going to go into the room that nobody wants to be in. The waiting room. The season between the calling and the commission. The space between the word God spoke and the moment you finally get to live it out. And we're going to ask the question that most calling conversations never get around to asking honestly. God, what are you doing in the wait? If you've ever asked that question, then this episode is definitely for you. Because if the answer is that God is doing nothing, like if the waiting room is just empty time that you have to endure until the real thing starts, then the season that you're in is wasted. And I, for one, as one who is in many ways still in the waiting room, I refuse to believe that. But before I tell you what God is doing in the wait, I need to ask you for a favor. If you've been enjoying this arc, if you enjoyed the purpose arc, uh, if you're enjoying this formation series, would you do me a favor and give us a five-star rating and review wherever you listen to podcasts? And also do me a favor and share this episode with somebody that you love. It helps get this message out and it gets this helpful uh God-centric content to people who really need it. Now back to the episode. So before I tell you what God is doing in the wait, I think I need to name what the wait actually feels like. Because I think to most teaching, most teaching on waiting, it skips past the experience portion of it too quickly, for my liking. It moves the problem to theology without sitting in the grief of the waiting. And I wrote about this in my book, The Purpose and the Pause. Uh, and I wrote about it there because I lived it and I'm still living it. And if you've been listening to the podcast, you know what I'm talking about. Uh there was a decade of knowing, a full decade of knowing. And it wasn't suspecting, but it was actual knowing that I was called to plant a church. Um I had the name of the church, the vision was clear, the conviction was real, and we prepared with everything that we had, and year after year, nothing moved. There were moments in life where people asked us, are you all planting a church? If so, we would join you right then and there. But nothing moved. And what I couldn't articulate at the time, but know now, is that the waiting room has a specific quality of suffering that's different from other kinds of suffering. And I think I'd like to call it the suffering of proximity. And it's where you can almost touch it. You've seen glimpses, you've felt the confirmations, you've received enough encouragement that you know that you're not imagining the call, that you're not starting from scratch, but you're standing in the land of almost, almost ready, almost released, just almost. And the nearness of the promise is what makes the absence of the fulfillment so painful. If the calling felt distant or vague, the waiting would be bearable. But when you can see it, when when the vision is clear and the desire is holy, every day that nothing moves feels like a question mark pressed against your chest, like a scarlet letter. The waiting room also produces a specific kind of loneliness because most people around you can't see what you're carrying. They see your life, they see the faithfulness, right? They see the family, they see the work, they see, you know, the Facebook curated reel of your life, the good things. But they can't see the gap between what you sense you were made for and what your life currently looks like. And so you carry it alone. And carrying something that heavy alone for that long, it starts to do things to a person. It makes you question your perception. Was what I sensed real or did I manufacture it? It makes you question your obedience. Did I miss a step somewhere? Did I fail to walk through a door that I was supposed to enter? And eventually, if you're not careful, it makes you question your worth. Maybe the calling belongs to someone more qualified, someone whose character is more developed than mine, someone who hasn't made the mistakes that I've made in life. And I need you to stay in this for a moment before we move on to the theology. Because a lot of teaching out there rushes past this to make you feel better. And feeling better before you feel understood does not actually help. Because the weight has been real, and the grief has been real, and the loneliness of it has been real. And if anybody fails to acknowledge the reality of any portion of that, then no matter how much they're trying to help us, they're not actually helping. There's no way to properly cope and to faithfully steward the season of waiting without acknowledging that it sucks sometimes, that your heart breaks sometimes, that you're frustrated and disappointed with God sometimes, that you tear yourself apart sometimes, that you tear the calling apart sometimes. And as your friend and as your brother, as your your fellow workmen in this Christian life, as someone who still doesn't have it all figured out, I need to sit with you in the suckiness of it, the frustration of it. Because it's real. Because it is real. And because you have doubted yourself, and because the wait time has caused you to doubt that God has placed a calling on your life. It's caused you to doubt that God loves you. It's caused you to wonder if God if God prefers somebody else who's already doing it more than you. Because there's some of you out there, you're watching people do what you were called to do in the same way that you were called to do it, and they've taken off like a rocket. And you still feel stuck at the starting line. Just waiting for the little gun to pop off and for God to say run. Man, if that's you, if that's you, then God, I pray that before we move any further in this episode, I pray that you would allow your Holy Spirit to bring comfort to my brother or my sister who feels the suffering of the weight. For my brother or my sister who wonders if you don't love them, if you don't prefer them, if you haven't favored them. God, I pray that the truth of this episode would pierce the hurt, the frustration, the disappointment, the negativity. And I pray that it would bring encouragement and be a healing balm to a soul that can sometimes feel torn apart in this process. Amen. Now let me offer you something. And this is not a pep talk, and it's not motivational, it's not designed to make the pain go away. But I want to offer you a different way of seeing what's actually happening. See, in the purpose and the pause, I drew a distinction that has become one of the anchors of how I understand the waiting season. The difference between being stuck and being stationed. See, stuck implies abandonment, aimlessness, failure. It implies that you have been left behind with no map and no purpose. It implies that everything you have ever been taught about a God who sees and knows and orders is a lie. Because how could a God of love forget about the ones that he loves? But stationed is a different perspective. It is a different reality altogether. My father was stationed in Alaska during his time in the army. In the military, you're not stuck, but you're placed in a specific location for a specific purpose. And see, stationed means that God has placed you there on purpose, that he saw something in you and knew that you were needed right where you are. Being stationed means that your positioning is intentional even if it is temporary. You're there on assignment, not by accident. And the assignment might feel ordinary. It may feel invisible, it may feel like it has nothing to do with the thing that you believe that you were ultimately built for, but the one who stationed you there knew what he was doing. And scripture confirms this pattern over and over. Moses spent 40 years in Midian tending to sheep before the burning bush ever appeared. Get this, 40 years, not 40 days, not forty weeks, 40 years, four decades of ordinary, invisible, unglamorous faithfulness in a place that had nothing to do with the nation that he was going to lead. Psalms 105, 17 through 19 says of Joseph, he sent a man before them, Joseph, sold as a slave. They bruised his feet with shackles, his neck was put in irons till what he foretold came to pass. So the word of the Lord proved him true. Did you catch that last phrase? So the word of the Lord proved him true. The waiting was not empty. The waiting was the proving. The word that had been spoken over Joseph was being tested in the waiting. Not because God doubted it, but because Joseph needed to be formed by it. The pit, the slavery, the prison, none of that was wasted. All of it was working. It was working on his behalf. It was forming him. David was anointed the king and then went right back to the fields. He spent years fleeing from Saul, years of running and hiding in caves and wondering if the anointing was ever going to mean what it was supposed to mean. And in those years, in the caves in the wilderness, and in the places where nobody else would choose to be, God was forming in David the kind of shepherd heart that a king would need. The throne required what the wilderness built. Oh man, that's good. That's good. That's good. I need you to get that. I need you to receive it. Let me say it again. The throne required what the wilderness built. The ultimate place that God has for you, there are things that you have to pick up in the waiting room. There are things that you have to pick up in the wilderness. There are things that you have to pick up while hiding in a cave, in what you believe is the curse of anonymity that will be absolutely required for you when you get to where God wants you to ultimately get. When you fully inhabit the calling and the assignment, there are things that need to be formed through the wilderness, through the waiting room that the throne requires. So you're not stuck, you're stationed. And there is a difference that there right there. There is a difference that changes everything. So now let's address the question. What is God actually doing while you wait? Is he playing PlayStation? Like, like is he, you know, playing with the little baby lambs? Or what like what is he doing? What is he doing? And I want to give you three specific things. And again, these are not to make the waiting feel shorter. Your weight is your weight. It just is. And so I don't want to make your weight feel shorter. That's not my job here. But I'm giving you these three things to make it feel meaningful. Because meaningless suffering is really unbearable. Suffering that is working towards something, even when you can't see what it is working toward, it's survivable. It still sucks. But it's survivable. So the first thing that God is doing while you wait is working in you. In my book, Purpose and the Pause again, I put it this way. Sometimes the weight isn't about the promise, it's about whether the person can carry the weight of it. See, the Israelites fresh out of Egypt couldn't carry the weight of the promised land. We know this because of what happened when twelve spies returned from Canaan. Ten of them, ten men who were not novices when it comes to witnessing the miracles of God. Right? Ten men who had witnessed miracle after miracle, who had walked through a parted sea, who had eaten bread that fell from the sky, looked at what God had already given them and said, We are not able. See, they weren't ready. And it's not because the promise was wrong, but it was because they weren't the people who could carry it yet. And God loved them too much to send them in before they were ready. Because if he sent them in before they were ready, they would squander the blessing that God had called them to steward. The waiting is where God shapes your character. It deepens your dependence on him, not just for answers, but for identity. It refines your heart, exposing what needs healing and strengthening and what needs growing. It stretches your spiritual and emotional capacity so that you're able to hold the very thing that you're praying for. The second thing God is doing is working around you. While you cannot see anything moving, heaven is orchestrating movement you have no visibility into. Aligning people, situations, conversations, and divine appointments that you do not even know you will need. Preparing a space for you that is worthy of the calling he placed on your life. Henry Nguyen, who spent his life thinking about the interior life and the nature of formation, wrote that the most important work God does in a person rarely happens in the public moments. It happens in the hidden ones, in the places where no one is watching, in the seasons that look from the outside like nothing is happening. And the third thing God is doing, and this is the one that I believe nobody talks about enough, is protecting you from premature elevation. Purpose without preparation is dangerous. I wrote about this in the book. And I said it's like giving someone with no weapons training a loaded weapon. The gift that takes you to a place your character cannot sustain will produce a fall that is greater than if you had never arrived there at all. And God loves you too much to give you something before you are ready to carry it well. Romans 8 28. We know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. That all that all things in that in that text includes the slow seasons. It includes the closed doors and the deferred dreams and the years of invisible faithfulness. Family, none of it is wasted. Not a single day. And now I need to name something that happens in long waiting seasons because I've lived it. I've lived it some days I'm still living it, and I've watched it destroy people. It is the temptation to manufacture the next step before it is time. Okay, let's talk about this. See, when the wait stretches long enough, the pressure builds. You feel like you should be doing something. Like faithfulness means forward movement. Like staying still is the same as falling behind. And so you start looking for ways to make things happen on your own timeline, right? Because we like control. Amen. Amen. Abraham grew weary of waiting for the promised child and took matters into his own hands. The result was Ishmael, not a monster, not a mistake in the cosmic sense, but an unnecessary complication born out of impatience that produced a generational conflict that we're still seeing the fruit of. Abraham did not doubt that God had spoken. Get that? He simply doubted God's process. And the distinction between those two doubts is everything. You believe that God spoke what he spoke. But you doubt how God wants to get you there. You think that maybe your GPS, your your series, your Apple Maps is better than God's Google Maps. So the distinction between those two things, it's a big difference. Saul, in fear and impatience, offered a sacrifice that was not his to give. And it cost him his kingdom. Not because he was faithless, but it was because he could not wait for God's timing when the pressure was on. And in my book, I put it plainly: premature elevation is dangerous. The promise requires not only faith, but patience. Trusting the process is just as important as believing in the promise. And the particular danger of the waiting room is that you can begin to see the manufactured open door as confirmation that you were right to move when you did. You can mistake your own. Momentum for God's leading. You can push through a door that was not yet time, get yourself in the room, and wonder why everything feels off. Because you arrived before you were ready to carry what you found there. Is this hidden, anybody, where you live? See, the waiting room is not asking you to be passive. It's asking you to be faithful with what is already in your hands while you trust God with what is not yet visible. Eugene Peterson spent decades writing about what he called a long obedience in the same direction, not a sprint toward the destination, but rather a sustained, faithful, ordinary, unglamorous walk in the direction God has given you. He argued that the most important spiritual posture is not the dramatic leap, but the sustained step. The willingness to keep moving in the direction God has given you at the pace God has set, without requiring it to be faster than it is. That's hard, but that's what obedience is. James K.A. Smith adds to this by reminding us that formation happens in the body over time. It's not in a single dramatic moment. You know, even Moses' burning bush experience, that wasn't a full formation. It was still happening in him. The waiting room is not interrupting your formation, but rather the waiting room, it is your formation. And so, having said that, now I want to take you to an image that I find the most honest description of what the waiting room actually feels like from the inside. We talked about this on Easter. Silent Saturday. The day between the crucifixion and the resurrection. Good Friday is devastation devastating, but it has kind of a dramatic clarity. The worst thing is happening and everyone knows it. Easter Sunday is triumphant and everything breaks open. But Saturday is just silence. And silence, as I wrote in the book, doesn't just feel like waiting. It feels like isolation. It feels like standing in a room you thought God would meet you in, only to wonder if he ever entered at all. The disciples on that Saturday didn't know what was happening beneath the surface. They had heard Jesus speak of the resurrection, they had seen the miracles, and yet Saturday was still, by every evidence available to them, the end of the story. The tomb had been sealed, the teacher was gone, and whatever they had been expecting had clearly not come to pass. But that Saturday was the most active day in the history of the cosmos. Because while the disciples sat in grief and confusion, while the world mourned and hell gloated, Jesus was doing something so profound that it could not be rushed or revealed or fully understood in real time. He was taking back the keys of death in the grave. He was issuing a crushing blow to the plans of the enemy. He was winning a victory that would redefine human destiny forever. But from the outside, he was just silent, still, gone. But God does not need noise to move. He doesn't need your timeline to work, praise God. He doesn't owe us updates to prove his presence. Just because you cannot see it does not mean it is not active. Just because the door is still closed does not mean nothing is happening on the other side of it. If your life feels like perpetual silent Saturday, if you are stuck between the death of something familiar and the resurrection of what you have hoped for, hold on. Heaven has not gone quiet because it's empty. It's gone quiet because the deepest things that God often does often happen under ground. He is laying a foundation, he is anchoring the roots, he is doing the work that lasts. Isaiah forty thirty one. But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint. That kind of strength does not come from rushing ahead. Rather it comes from waiting well. And Isaiah 64 4 says this, Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him. God acts on behalf of those who wait. Not those who manufacture, not those who force, but those who wait. The waiting room is not asking you to sit in a corner with your arms crossed and your hopes dimming. It's asking you to partner with what God is doing while you wait. In the purpose in the pause, I drew a distinction between passive waiting and active participation, between enduring the pause and partnering with it. And the difference matters enormously because one posture positions you to be formed and the other just positions you to be frustrated. Here's what partnering with the wait actually looks like. Practically, you return to the last word that God gave you. What is the last thing that He clearly told you to do? Go back to that. Obey it. Stand on it. God's last word is still your current instruction. You're not waiting on a new word. You're being faithful with the word you already have. You do not fight the soil. In the book, I used the image of a seed buried in the ground. It's small, insignificant, and apparently lifeless. From the outside, nothing is changing, but below the surface, everything is shifting. The seed is doing what it was created to do. It is dying to its old form. It's cracking open. The roots are reaching deep into the earth, drawing nourishment and anchoring it in place. Long before there is ever a stem or a leaf or a blossom, the real growth begins where no one can see it. So you're not dead, you're being planted. You're not stuck, you're being rooted. So, practically speaking, to partner with the weight, number one, you return to the last word God gave you. Number two, you don't fight the soil. But next, you do not drift from the spiritual disciplines. So the waiting room is not the time to ease up on prayer and the word, on worship, and on the practices that keep you connected to the vine. Those disciplines are not producing visible fruit right now, but they are building the root system that will make the visible fruit sustainable when it comes. Number four, you serve where you are. You don't need a title or a platform or a spotlight to make an impact. The most powerful oil is crushed in private before it's ever poured out in public. And sometimes God refines us most deeply through the very act of serving in obscurity. Because obscurity is where you find out whether you are doing this for him or for the audience. And you resist the uh, sorry, uh in the last one, you resist the comparison trap. Because comparison will kill you in the waiting room faster than anything else. I should know. I can be a chronic comparer. I'll just say that. Well, what I'm learning is that their pace is not my pace, and their pace is not your pace, and my pace is not your pace, and your pace is not mine. Their timeline is not your template. You're not behind. You're being built. And comparing what God is doing in you to what he appears to be doing in someone else is like a seed in the ground looking up at a fully grown tree and concluding that it has been forgotten. You haven't been forgotten. You're just being formed. I think one of the cool things that is an active reminder for me is recently we got my wife some plants. Uh, her birthday came up, and she hasn't been as fortunate with plants in the past, but I keep getting her plants because I know that she's gonna get it at some point. And so we got her some plants, and uh we get them home, and they don't require watering yet. There's nothing for us to do yet. And yet, in her prayer plant, it's called a prayer plant because at night it curls up and during the day it opens up. Um, her prayer plant, even without us having watered it yet, we're already seeing two new plant blooms start to come out of it. And we haven't done anything, but it's still working the way that it's supposed to work. Because the formation in the roots has been happening, and because those things are healthy and they're working the way that they're supposed to work, we are now seeing the fruit of the formation above the soil. Just let that happen in your life. I spent over a decade, man, in the waiting room with the call to plant a church. I wrote a book about it. About what that decade did to me. And that book is the theology I built out of the suffering of that wait. And I want to be I want to be honest, honest about something with you. I wrote that book before I actually walked through the door. I wrote it in the wait, and then the door opened, October 2024. Pursuit Church launched, and then about nine months later it closed. So the book, it doesn't have anything in there about the closing, and I've thought about going back and doing a revision to the book where it talks about the clothing, the closing, and how I'm processing it. But here's what I know now that I didn't know when I wrote the book. The waiting room is not the last room. Sometimes you walk through the doors that you have been waiting for and find yourself in a new kind of waiting room. One that feels different, one that asks new questions, one that requires a different kind of formation than the first one did. The theology that I wrote about in that book, the purpose in the pause, the seed dying before it can grow, God working in you and around you, all of that held. It was all real. And all of it is still holding now in this new pause after a different kind of loss. I'm not writing about waiting from the other side of it. I'm talking about this as someone very much who is still in the waiting room. And what I know is this the waiting room is not a sign that God has stopped. It's a sign that he has not finished. And there is a difference between those two things that is worth holding on to. So here's where we land after episode 38. You're not stuck, you're stationed. And there is a God who placed you exactly where you are for purposes that you cannot fully see yet, who is doing three specific things as you wait. He's working in you to build what the assignment will require. He's working around you to prepare what you will walk into, and he's protecting you from the premature elevation that your gifts might take you to before your character is ready to carry it. And can I say something about that? In our culture, in our church, we are we're bad about prematurely elevating people because they seem to have a gift and a calling on their lives. It is not unbiblical for us to make people wait. It is not unbiblical for us to enforce formation before we platform people, before we give them a microphone or a song to sing or any of those things. The silence is not absence. The closed door is not rejection. The delay is not denial. God is the God of silent Saturday. He does his deepest work in the places that look from the outside like nothing is happening. So partner with the wait. Return to your last word. Stay rooted in the disciplines. Serve where you are. Resist the comparison that will convince you that your story is falling behind. And hold on to this. What God placed in you before you were born has not been undone by the length of the wait. The word is still in your mouth. The calling is still intact. The yada, a word we talked about last week, a deep, intimate knowing. It still precedes you. God has not forgotten you. God is not done with you. And next week we're gonna close out this calling arc and we're gonna ask the question What do you do when you cannot see the assignment clearly? How do you step forward when the fog is not lifted? What this is a conversation that's for everyone who is ready to move, but you can't yet see where you're supposed to go. But before we get there, sit with this. What if the waiting room is not the hallway to the real thing? What if it is the real thing? Ooh, that's good. Let's pray. Father, I want to come to you on behalf of everyone listening who is in the waiting room right now. For the one who has been carrying a clear call for years and watched nothing move, God, I ask you to reframe the silence. Let them feel today that the waiting room is not empty, that you're working in them and around them and protecting them from what they are not yet ready to carry. Let the stationed truth land deeper than the stuck feeling. For the one tempted right now to manufacture the next step, who is tired of waiting and looking for a way to make things happen in their own time. Lord, give them the patience of Abraham's better moments rather than the impatience of his worst one. Let them hear the word you already gave them, and let that word be enough just to stay still. Let the one who's living in silent Saturday right now, the one who's sitting in the death of something they built and the resurrection of something that they're still hoping for. Father, do do what you did on that original Saturday. Work underground. Work in the hidden place. Do the thing that cannot be rushed or revealed or fully understood in real time. And let them trust that your silence is not your absence. For the one who has been in the waiting room so long that the waiting has started to feel like the verdict, who is beginning to believe that the length of the wait is evidence that the calling was never real, Abba, I ask you to interrupt that conclusion because the call is still real. The word is still in their mouth. You do not retract what you place, you do not forget what you plant. And for the one who has walked through a door that they waited for and found themselves in a new kind of waiting room, who's grieving not just the weight, but the specific loss of something they finally built, Father, meet them in that particular grief because it's real and you're not absent in it. In Jesus' name. Amen. Before you go, before you go, you already know. If this episode is named something that you've been carrying alone, if this waiting room that you're in finally has some language around it, will you share this episode? Will you send it to somebody that you know is waiting and struggling? Send it to the person in your life who feels like they're stuck, but now you know that they're stationed. They need this conversation. And if faith formed has been worth your time, take 60 seconds and leave a rating and a review wherever you listen. Every review is how this conversation finds the person who is in the waiting room right now, who has no language for what is happening to them. Also, subscribe so that you don't miss episode 39. We're closing the calling arc, and the final episode goes somewhere that I think most calling conversations will never reach. And if this episode connected, connected with something in the purpose and the pause, that book goes deeper into everything we talked about today. I have a link for it in the show notes. Get your copy today. You can find it wherever books are sold. Follow Faithformed on social media. The conversation continues between episodes. I thank you for joining us today. I'm your host, Justin Belt. This is Faithformed. Keep pursuing, and I will see you next week. Be blessed.