When the Vision Tarries: Why Your ‘Yes’ Takes Time and Fire to Become Real

When God gives you a vision, we often expect it to happen next week. Our instant gratification world has trained us to expect that.

But God doesn’t work that way.

He gives us a glimpse of what He wants to bring about—a snapshot, an inkling of what’s possible. But it’s not a guarantee. First, we must say yes and ask ourselves: Am I positioned to submit to His process and His ways to bring this about? Am I willing to walk by faith, step by step, into the vision?

In the parable of the wedding feast, Jesus tells us that “Many are called, but few are chosen.” (Matthew 22:14) Have you ever wondered why God, who knows who will and will not accept His invitation, still offers it to those who will refuse? 

God’s mercy and grace always make room for our choice. He gives us the opportunity to say yes, even after we’ve said no. His mercies are new every morning. Tragically, few accept—because it always involves a cross.

For the past twenty years, I have been harboring a vision sparked many years ago: to create a beautiful place where people flourish. It grew out of a Sunday afternoon ritual of visiting the sauna on Rodney Street in Liverpool.

Sunday was reserved for women only, and though I was just eighteen, they welcomed me and took me into their confidence. I felt privileged that these grown women would talk openly about their lives as we sweated it out. They trusted me. And though I never heard anything scandalous, it was obvious they were sharing intimacies.

That experience touched me so deeply that I wanted to create a place like that—where women made time for themselves, shared wholeheartedly, and treated each other with honor. A true sisterhood.

As I traveled to Asia and other parts of the world, I looked for inspiration to create a space with an atmosphere of welcome, connection, and replenishment. I found lots of inspiration—but never looked for the exit ramp from my hectic life to create such a place. My unexamined reasoning said that would come later, after I had climbed the ladder and earned my share of the American dream.

It took decades of wandering through the spiritual wilderness, brutal awakenings, and a magnificent rescue to detach from that lie—which came not by choice, but by fire.

Fire is a characteristic of God that burns up everything that is not like Him.

About fifteen years ago, after the great burning, I attended an Appreciative Inquiry Summit on the New American City facilitated by David Cooperrider, Peter Senge, and Peter Block. The two hundred or so people broke into small groups to collaborate on a project that would be presented to the main room. My simple idea was selected: “Life by Design, Not Default.”

It was what I yearned for—but was clueless about how to achieve. Yet it resonated with others who, like me, were spinning on the hamster wheel.

I began to think about how to design a well-lived, purposeful, and fulfilling life. What standard do you use? Where is the roadmap?

It took me by surprise, because I was still struggling to find my lane in a life that was too busy and demanding, leaving no room for me.

About a year later, while sitting on the front porch in my red rocking chair, the Lord spoke again and told me to write a book about how to live in a rhythm of harmony with Him—and with myself. Rooted in Truth. Detached from the madness of doing and getting. Living thoughtlessly. A Sacred Rhythm.

“How can I do that, Lord,” I protested, “when I don’t know how to live that way myself?”

His reply was simple: “Just begin.”

“Do not despise small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin—to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.” (Zechariah 4:10)

So I began by noticing the things I have said no to—things that bring me joy, yet I don’t make room for. Something always crops up, a wrench gets thrown in, or the rug gets pulled out. Life happens, demanding my attention, siphoning off my resources, and distracting me from what matters most. It hijacks my “yes” and keeps me shackled to the hamster wheel, defaulting to chasing solutions, putting out fires, and trading my time for something that asserts its importance above my trust and obedience to God.

Does this sound familiar?

In the twenty years I’ve lived in my home, there have been many opportunities to steward my resources in alignment with purpose. But I often chose instead to invest in my business or speculative ventures I deemed more important—ones I hoped would fund the vision God gave me. Someone’s got to pay for this vision, right?

Wrong.

That’s not walking in faith. That’s relying on my own ability and provision to carry out what God has ordained. And it will never work. Trust me—you don’t want it to happen that way.

“Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain.” (Psalm 127:1–2)

What God has called, appointed, and assigned you to—He will make provision for. Your job is to get out of the way and get in sync with God. Silence the noise, quell the distractions, and attune your heart to Him.

To do that, we must attend to some things we’ve long neglected:Healing. Habits. Mindsets.To name just a few.

All healing is rhythm and regulation. We must connect with parts of ourselves we’ve never paid attention to. And we need other people to help us regulate ourselves and see what we don’t yet have eyes for—a safe, trustworthy faith community committed to our well-being, recognizing we are all members of one body: the Body of Christ.

This is how we learn to live differently—by divine design.

It’s a journey of becoming—one we can only take together.

“You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5)

I don’t want you to miss the invitation to the highest honor and the best life you could possibly live.

And by divine appointment, I have made a special place for you.

Pleroma Sanctuary has emerged from the burning and ashes of my life to become that beautiful place where people flourish.

A place for you to “Come away to a quiet place and get some rest.” (Mark 6:31)To attend to your heart and soul, reflect on the road traveled and the one ahead, and learn to see God in your story.

Come to Pleroma—where the Lord is the Minister of the Sanctuary.