The Holy Spirit has a way of sneaking up on me with questions that sound gentle but hit like a ton of bricks. It’s never a loud, thunderous kind of voice, more like that calm, quiet nudge that feels polite until you realise He just asked you to rearrange your entire life.
That’s exactly what happened not too long ago. I was journaling, as I often do as I pray. There were so many things I’d been praying about: direction, clarity, the next steps for work, ministry, motherhood, and everything in between. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t holding onto anything that could keep me from what God had next.
And that’s when He asked it.
“What are you holding onto that could be holding you back from what I have for you next?”
A simple question. But one that immediately had me straightening my posture, like a student suddenly aware the teacher’s watching. I took that question seriously. So, I did what any good, spiritually responsible person would do: I made a list. I journaled everything that came to mind, habits, fears, mindsets, and attachments I thought might be hindering my growth. It wasn’t a casual list; it was raw, vulnerable, and prayerful.
A few days later, I brought the list back before the Lord. “Search my heart,” I prayed, “and show me what still needs to go.”
And in the stillness, I heard Him say something that made me freeze. “What I need you to lay down isn’t on your list.”
Wait, what? I blinked, because surely, I had heard wrong. I mean, I really went in on that list. I covered everything from pride to procrastination, even threw in fear of failure for good measure. But then He repeated it, this time slower:
“What I need you to lay down isn’t on your list.”
By now, I was half-offended, half-curious. “Okay, Lord,” I said, “then what is it?” And that’s when He dropped the bomb: “Your need for convenience.”
I sat there in silence. Convenience? Really, Lord? Out of all the things in the world, convenience?
At first, I was confused. I muttered. “I like things neat, not convenient.” But the more I sat with it, the more I realised He wasn’t joking.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for rest, grace, and the “soft girl era.” I love the idea of working smart instead of hard, using wisdom and efficiency to steward what God has given me. But what the Lord began to reveal is that there’s a skinny line between comfort and convenience, and one of them can cost you your calling.
Many of us are willing to sacrifice comfort to obey God. We’ve endured the unpopular seasons. We’ve faced rejection, uncertainty, and even loss in pursuit of His will. But somewhere in our minds, we’ve also held onto the hope that one day, obedience will stop being this hard.
I’m not alone in this, am I?
Yet, as I sat there, pen still in hand, a small laugh escaped me. “Okay, Lord,” I whispered, “so we’re doing this the hard way again, huh?”
He didn’t answer, but I could almost feel Him smile.
Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. ~ Matthew 16:24-25 ESV
When the Lord told me that what I needed to lay down was my need for convenience, I was stunned. It didn’t sound sinful or selfish. It sounded… reasonable. After all, who doesn’t want things to flow, to make sense, to be in place finally? But the Holy Spirit began to open my eyes to the truth that convenience, when left unchecked, can quietly become an idol that limits our growth and dulls our obedience.
We love the idea of progress, but not the process. We love transformation, but not transition. And yet, purpose is often wrapped in inconvenience, the kind that stretches you beyond your timeline, rearranges your expectations, and exposes the parts of you still trying to stay in control.
The Lord began to show me that He wasn’t trying to make my life complicated; He was trying to make my character complete. The uncomfortable truth is that inconvenience often hides the blessing we’ve been praying for. When we run from what feels inconvenient, we usually run from the very thing designed to mature us. So, I began to ask Him new questions, and I invite you to do the same.
“Lord, what are You using inconvenience to kill in me?”
Culture has shaped us to crave ease. We see inconvenience as an interruption, not an invitation. But in God’s economy, inconvenience is often His most effective tool for pruning the parts of us that can’t go into the next season.
For me, it’s impatience. When things take longer than I expect, I often default to frustration and try to “fix” situations myself. I want progress, but usually on my terms. The Lord showed me that my desire for convenience was feeding my impatience, and impatience, if left unchecked, turns into rebellion.
When we refuse to wait on God, we start manipulating circumstances to fit our timeline. We become our own source, and that’s a dangerous place to be. But when we begin to lean into the inconvenience, rather than resist it, something shifts. We start to see that every delay has a purpose. Every detour is chiselling away pride, entitlement, or self-reliance.
So, ask yourself: What could God be killing in me through inconvenience?
Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s the illusion of control. Whatever it is, it’s for your good. When you allow inconvenience to do its refining work, God resurrects something more substantial, purer, and more aligned with His will.
“Lord, what are You using inconvenience to arm me with?”
Every inconvenience carries a hidden weapon. If you pay close attention to how God moves, you’ll notice that seasons of inconvenience often precede seasons of expansion. The things that frustrate you now may be the very tools you’ll need in the next chapter of your purpose.
Inconvenience builds stamina. It teaches you to pray longer, to think deeper, to depend more. It sharpens obedience and strengthens discernment. When life feels heavy, when you’re stretched beyond what’s convenient, God is often forming endurance, because the next season will require it.
God never wastes the tension. He uses it to arm you. Because with every new blessing comes a new level of responsibility, and a new level of opposition. Expansion doesn’t just bring more opportunity; it also brings more warfare. So, before God sends you into a season of more, He’ll first enrol you in the school of inconvenience. It’s where you learn how to fight the right battles, how to pray from the spirit instead of panic, how to obey even when it hurts.
When you embrace inconvenience, you gain strategy and the armour that ensures you can sustain the blessing when it arrives. So, instead of asking, “When will this end?” maybe ask, “Lord, what are You arming me for?”
Because hidden inside your frustration might be the very armour you’ll need to stand firm in the season ahead.
“Lord, what are You using inconvenience to test in me?”
Tests are rarely announced. They come disguised as interruptions, delays, or disappointments. Inconvenience is often God’s way of testing your dependency. It exposes where our faith really stands and reveals whether we trust God’s timing or only our own. Thankfully, God, in His mercy, doesn’t test to expose weakness but to build strength.
It’s easy to praise when life flows, but the real test comes when obedience costs convenience. When things don’t go according to plan, when prayers take longer than expected, or when God is silent, do we still depend on Him? Will you still trust His character when His timing doesn’t make sense?
If your trust only exists when life feels smooth, it’s not trust, it’s preference. But when you choose to depend on God even when it feels inconvenient, that’s faith. That’s maturity. That’s discipleship. God’s goal isn’t to make you comfortable; it’s to make you complete. And completion only comes when your faith has been tested and proven genuine.
So maybe what feels like an inconvenient season isn’t punishment at all, maybe it’s proof that God can trust you with more.
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When we idolise convenience, we end up sabotaging our own growth and setting ourselves up for disappointment. We quit too soon, and we miss the fruit that only grows in the soil of obedience. But when we surrender our desire for everything to “flow easily,” we make room for the supernatural. God does His best work in the places that feel most inconvenient. That’s where He births character, endurance, wisdom, and intimacy.
Inconvenience doesn’t mean you’ve stepped out of purpose; it often means you’ve stepped deeper into it. It’s heaven’s way of refining your motives, realigning your focus, and anchoring your heart. It’s the slow, steady hand of God training you to depend more on Him than on your ability to make life fit your schedule.
So, when life feels messy, delayed, demanding or uncomfortable, don’t despise it. Instead, pause and ask: “Lord, what are You doing through this inconvenience?”
Because maybe the very thing you call frustrating is the platform God is using to build your faith. The blessing isn’t always in the breakthrough; sometimes it’s hidden in the stretching, the silence, and the surrender.
So, friend, don’t run from the inconvenience. Let it do its work. There’s glory in the grit. There’s purpose in the pause. There’s a blessing buried in what doesn’t make sense. And when you come out of it, because you will, you’ll realise that the inconvenience you once resented was actually the doorway to your next divine assignment.
