I’ll keep planting seeds while God decides the season they bloom.
# This Job May Be Part of the Journey
“This job may fund the journey, shape the character, and connect the people needed for what comes next.”
There’s a strange tension that exists when your spirit begins waking up to something larger… while your alarm clock still goes off for the same job tomorrow morning.
Part of me wants freedom now.
Not in the lazy sense. Not in the “escape responsibility” sense. I mean the kind of freedom where every hour belongs to God completely. The kind where creativity, conversation, service, storytelling, music, connection, and Emberwild become life itself instead of something squeezed into late nights and stolen moments between shifts.
Because lately, those moments feel alive.
When I’m working on Emberwild, time disappears. Hours pass in deep focus without resistance. Ideas connect. Conversations become meaningful. I feel aligned — spiritually, creatively, emotionally. Like I’m touching something I was always supposed to build, even if I can’t fully explain it yet.
And then reality interrupts.
The clock.
The schedule.
The uniform.
The repetition.
The structure of modern work that often feels disconnected from the soul.
There are days where ordinary work feels painfully small compared to what I feel stirring inside me.
Not because honest work lacks dignity — it absolutely doesn’t. But because once you begin sensing purpose, it becomes difficult not to ache for complete immersion in it.
I think a lot of men quietly carry this tension.
Showing up responsibly while secretly feeling called toward something bigger.
Trying to remain grateful while also wrestling with frustration.
Balancing discipline with dreams.
Trying not to resent the very thing currently sustaining them.
And maybe that’s where I’ve been learning the hardest lesson lately:
God is not absent from the waiting season.
He isn’t only present in the future version of life I imagine.
He isn’t only present in the “freedom” stage.
He isn’t waiting for Emberwild to become full-time before He begins working through me.
He’s already here.
In the shifts.
In the exhaustion.
In the coworkers.
In the random conversations.
In the discipline.
In the slow character building.
In learning patience when I want acceleration.
In learning surrender when I want control.
Maybe this current season is not delaying the calling.
Maybe it’s preparing me to carry it correctly.
Because if Emberwild truly becomes something meaningful one day — something that helps people feel seen, connected, inspired, understood, or awakened spiritually — then maybe the struggle itself becomes part of the foundation.
The long workdays.
The emotional conflict.
The feeling of being divided between survival and purpose.
The longing for freedom.
The humility of not being there yet.
Maybe none of it is wasted.
Maybe this job really is funding the journey.
Maybe it’s shaping the character.
Maybe it’s introducing the exact people, lessons, pain, grit, and perspective needed for whatever comes next.
And maybe faith right now doesn’t look like quitting everything overnight.
Maybe faith looks like continuing to show up.
Working hard.
Creating late at night.
Staying open.
Listening carefully.
Trusting slowly.
And allowing God to unfold the story in His timing instead of my impatience.
Because the truth is… even now, He already has me full time.
And maybe that changes everything.
- Christian Wiedmann
