Walk It Out

There comes a moment in every believer’s life when the question shifts from “What do I want?” to “Lord, what is Your will for me?” It is a holy turning point — sometimes subtle, sometimes painful, always transformative. Learning the will of God is not a single revelation but a lifelong journey of trust, surrender, and obedience. We discover it in prayer, in unexpected turns, and in the moments when God asks us to believe what we say we believe. This is how God used desire, disappointment, preparation, and unexpected opportunity to teach me what it truly means to walk out His will. It’s the story of how He confronted my self-doubt, reshaped my understanding of surrender, and revealed His sovereignty in ways I could never have orchestrated. But more than that, it’s a story about His heart — a God who speaks before we understand, prepares us before He positions us, and guides us with tenderness and truth. A God who speaks before we understand. A God who prepares us before He positions us. A God who knows us so deeply that He guides us with both tenderness and truth. A God who teaches us that His will is not just a destination — it’s a way of walking. God’s Preparation Behind the Interview Season In early 2019, two words kept surfacing in my spirit: prepare and intentional. Then came a prophetic confirmation through a friend: “For such a time as this.” I did not know it then, but God was preparing my heart for a lesson that would reshape my understanding of His will. I did not realize it then, but the preparation God was stirring in my heart was directly connected to the interview season I was about to walk into. In March of 2019, I interviewed for a head principal position — a role I deeply desired. My best friend was also a candidate. We both advanced to the final phase: the performance event. I felt confident and hopeful. When people asked how the interview went, I always said, “I think it went well. Now, the will of the Lord be done.” I believed those words — until God asked me to live them. When Faith Confronts Our Words Two days before the performance event, I found myself at the altar praying for someone else when the Lord whispered a question that went straight to my heart: “Do you believe what you say?” His words stopped me. I knew immediately He wasn’t speaking about the person I was praying for—He was speaking about me. I stepped away from the crowd and pressed in, my heart wrestling and reaching at the same time. Lord, I trust You. If this position is Your will for me, it will happen. In that quiet space, God was not challenging my words; He was inviting my faith to rise and meet them. Then God spoke again to my heart: “You are going to have to walk it out.” At that moment, I knew — deep in my spirit — that I was not going to get the job. Two days before the presentation. Two days before standing before a panel of leaders and peers. The timing felt painful and confusing. The Struggle Before Surrender I wish I could say I immediately rested in God’s peace. But the next day, I wrestled. I rehearsed my presentation, trying to push through the heaviness, until I finally broke. I laid face down on my bed and poured out my heart: Why would You give me the desire to serve as a principal? Why bring me this far if it wasn’t Your will? Why allow me to reach the performance event? Then God’s presence filled the room — warm, comforting, unmistakable. And He whispered: “Because I know you.” He continued: “I know you struggle with self-doubt. I know you question your value. You would let the enemy feed those lies. But I say you are a woman of great faith. You believe I am sovereign. My will aligns with My Word, My plan, and My purpose for your life. Trust Me — and walk it out.” I wept. Not because of disappointment, but because of love. God knew me so intimately that He protected me from misinterpreting the outcome. Had He not spoken beforehand, I would have spiraled into insecurity, overthinking, and self-criticism. Instead, He invited me into trust. Learning is in the Process I had prepared. I had researched. I was ready. And I had peace knowing someone else would be chosen. I even prayed, Lord, if not me, let it be my best friend. We work well together, and I believed she would lead beautifully. When the superintendent delivered the decision, he was kind and affirming. But inside, I knew: This was not his decision — God had already ordered my steps. As I left, my former boss handed me an envelope. “Read this later,” he said. I cried in my car — disappointment mixed with surrender. I prayed, Lord, let my response honor You. Let my words reflect Your will, not my emotions.