Sometimes pride and ego force us into what I like to call intentional suffering.

Not suffering God assigned.

Not suffering that was unavoidable.

But suffering that continues because we refuse to seek the One who already has the answer.

I know because I did it.

And sometimes still do without recognizing it.

Until.

The season has expired.

But now, I have the fresh anointing to catch it. Sometimes while it is happening, but often immediately afterward.

There are seasons I reflect on and realize that, while not every season, many of them did not require me to go through what I went through. I could have chosen to grow through them instead.

Yet I would not humble myself before Jesus.

I thought I could carry it myself. I thought I could reason my way through it, write my way through it, strategize my way through it, and work my way through it.

But a few days ago, I finally bowed before Jesus.

The truth is that many of us are like that.

Yet if we are honest, trust is often easier to confess than it is to practice.

We love God.

We believe God.

Scripture reminds us, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5, ESV).

Indeed, we trust God.

Or at least we want to.

But when life feels uncertain, our first instinct is often to reach for what we can control.

We consult everyone except God.

We seek advice before prayer.

We seek strategy before surrender.

We seek solutions before worship.

Yet Jesus declares, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you” (Matthew 7:7, ESV).

Jeremiah records the Lord saying, “You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:13, ESV).

Peter writes, “Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7, ESV).

And the beautiful truth is that God is not asking us to carry what He already promised to hold.

Jesus reminds us, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:30, ESV).

These are not merely comforting verses.

They are instructions.

Instructions to seek God before trouble comes.

Instructions to seek God while trouble remains.

Instructions to seek God after the storm has passed.

Because suffering is not forever.

But seeking God should be.

I have reached a place where I ask the Holy Spirit about everything.

Should I go now?

Should I wait?

Should I move?

Should I stay?

Should I speak?

Should I remain silent?

What if the delay I resent is actually divine protection?

What if the Holy Spirit is prompting me to wait ten more minutes before leaving for the grocery store because He sees a drunk driver on a road I have not yet entered?

What if the inconvenience is actually a blessing disguised as an inconvenience?

What may seem inconvenient to man can often be God’s hand upon our lives.

His literal ordering of our steps.

“For the LORD directs the steps of the godly” (Psalm 37:23, NLT).

What if the closed door is protection?

What if the delay is God positioning me exactly where I need to be?

Jesus said, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Matthew 4:19, ESV).

Sometimes the protection is found in the making.

Sometimes the delay is found in the pruning.

Because who we are now may spoil the harvest God has assigned to us if He releases it too soon.

Waiting is not denial.

Waiting is often preparation.

Waiting is often protection.

Waiting is often God’s plan.

Scripture reminds us, “Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9, ESV).

The time may not be now.

But it is on the way.

Therefore, prepare yourself.

For the Lord declares, “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:19, ESV).

Because I have.

And I have reached a place where I ask the Holy Spirit about everything because prayer is not merely preparation for life.

Prayer is participation with the One who already sees what is ahead.

What if God is protecting me from something I cannot see?

Prayer is not a ritual.

It is an exchange.

It is why I often find myself praying, “Lord, build a fence around me.”

Not because it is a song lyric.

Because it is warfare.

Real warfare.

Not fighting with your hands.

Not fighting with weapons.

But fighting through faith.

Fighting in your prayer closet.

Fighting in worship.

Fighting by remaining in the presence of God until He speaks.

Until He answers.

Until He moves.

Until.

To suffer intentionally is to suffer on purpose.

Because if you know God like I know God, then you know He already has the resolution for what you are facing.

He is simply waiting for you to seek Him.

Waiting for you to ask for help.

Waiting for you to surrender.

Sometimes the suffering is intentional because of pride.

Sometimes it is intentional because of ego.

Sometimes it is intentional because we keep running from the very God who is already waiting for us.

Like the father in the parable of the prodigal son, God does not wait with shame.

He waits with open arms (Luke 15:20–24, ESV).

And when the son returned, the father did not place him where he deserved.

He restored him to the position that had always belonged to him.

Sometimes intentional suffering is personal.

But sometimes it is purposeful.

Sometimes it is suffering for the sake of God.

The Lord asked Samuel, “How long will you grieve over Saul, since I have rejected him from being king over Israel?” (1 Samuel 16:1, ESV).

In other words, there comes a time when mourning must give way to movement.

There comes a time when grief must make room for purpose.

There comes a time when God says, I still have work for you to do.

That truth reminds me of the season I call my darkest hour.

The temporary loss of my firstborn.

The season that eventually gave birth to The Art of Translating Pain: A Restorative Writing Workbook for Healing, Wholeness, and Transformation.

At the time, none of it made sense.

But what I know now is this:

God does not allow pain without purpose.

He is too good for that.

There is purpose.

There is intention.

There is meaning.

The question is not whether there is intentionality.

The question is what kind of intentionality this is.

Have you prayed?

Have you worshiped?

Have you laid your face on the floor before God?

Have you fasted?

Have you surrendered?

Because that is warfare.

The battle is not won with your hands.

The battle is not won with weapons.

The battle is won in the prayer closet.

The battle is won on your face before God.

The battle is won when you remain in His presence until He blesses you.

Consider Esther.

A young woman with no appointment.

No invitation.

No earthly right to appear before the king.

Yet before she moved, she fasted.

“Go, gather all the Jews to be found in Susa, and hold a fast on my behalf” (Esther 4:16, ESV).

For three days she sought God first.

Then she went anyway.

That was intentional suffering.

She could have died.

Yet God touched the heart of the king because God had already determined the outcome.

“The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the LORD; he turns it wherever he will” (Proverbs 21:1, ESV).

God still touches the hearts of kings.

The hearts of employers.

The hearts of judges.

The hearts of publishers.

The hearts of landlords.

The hearts of decision makers.

The favor often arrives before we enter the room.

That is why we seek God first.

Some suffering is prolonged by pride.

Some suffering is assigned by purpose.

The Lord told Ananias concerning Saul, “For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:16, ESV).

Paul suffered.

The disciples suffered.

Jesus suffered.

He was mocked.

Rejected.

Beaten.

Crucified.

He endured suffering so that we could receive mercy, grace, and salvation (Isaiah 53:5; Romans 5:8, ESV).

Therefore, suffering itself is not always the problem.

The question is whether God assigned it or whether our pride extended it.

Today, when people ask me how I am doing, sometimes I simply smile.

Because I now recognize that some seasons of my life were intentional suffering.

Seasons that could have ended much sooner had I simply called on Jesus and told Him what I needed.

So let me ask you what I had to ask myself:

Are you intentionally suffering because of pride?

Because of ego?

Because of self-reliance?

Because I certainly was.

Prayer of Repentance

Father God,

I repent for every time pride, ego, or self-reliance kept me from the blessings You had already assigned to my life.

Thank You for reminding me that You are God and I am not. Even in Elijah’s discouragement, You reminded him that You had reserved seven thousand who had not bowed to Baal (1 Kings 19:18, ESV).

Thank You for reminding me that true leadership is never about building ourselves, but about preparing others. As Paul instructed Timothy, what has been entrusted to us must also be entrusted to faithful people who will teach others (2 Timothy 2:2, ESV).

I humble myself before You.

I bow because You are worthy.

I repent for allowing my will to compete with Yours.

Instead, I pray as Jesus prayed:

“Not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42, ESV).

Speak, Lord.

Your servant is listening.

Like Jacob, I choose to hold tightly to the promises of God. Scripture records:

“And he said, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.” (Genesis 32:26, KJV)

Jacob’s persistence was not pride. It was dependence. He understood that what he needed could only come from God.

So when faith requires waiting, I will wait.

When faith requires trusting, I will trust.

When faith requires surrender, I will surrender.

Like the disciples in John 21, I will cast my net again.

I will ask again.

I will seek again.

I will knock again.

You provide the fire.

I will provide the sacrifice.

Fill me until I overflow.

And I will remain in Your presence until You accomplish all that You intend.

Until.

In Jesus’ mighty name,

Amen.