Upendo Ministries

Lately, I’ve been in what I can only describe as a hallway season.

I’m not at the beginning of something; I’m not stepping into something new.
Just fully in between. And if I’m honest, it’s been really hard.

I’ve been carrying a lot of worry and anxiety about the future, about the present, about friends, about schooling. My health feels up in the air every day again, and that uncertainty affects nearly everything. I recently had to quit my job at the daycare, which wasn’t an easy decision. I loved those kids. I loved being there. But my body just couldn’t keep up. There’s something quite humbling about having to admit your limits.

Right now, I’m taking a break from working outside of helping my parents. Eventually, I’ll look for a job that’s more conducive to my health. But being back in this place of “figuring it out” feels vulnerable and quite uncomfortable. I thought I had moved past this stage of not knowing where I fit. And yet here I am again.

The hallway.

You know that feeling when you’re standing in a hallway, and all the doors are closed? You know there’s something on the other side of them. You just can’t open them yet. You don’t know which one is yours. So you wait.

And waiting can feel so loud, but so lonely all at the same time.

The enemy loves to whisper in hallway seasons.
“You’re behind.”
“You’re wasting time.”
“Everyone else is moving forward.”

I’m learning daily that God does some of His deepest work in the hallway, even though it doesn’t always make sense. Because in the hallway, there’s nothing to lean on but Him.

Recently, Ephesians 3:19–20 has meant so much to me:
“That you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think…”

Far more.

Not just enough to scrape by. Not barely holding things together. Far more than I can ask or even imagine.

When I look at my life right now, I see great uncertainty. I see a job I had to leave. A life dream, whose doors have been shut. I see a body that feels fragile and weak. I see plans that aren’t clear.

But God sees the whole story.

He sees where this hallway leads.
He sees what doors are worth opening.
He sees the purpose even when I can’t see anything.

God is teaching me faith in a new way, once again. Some days it looks like crying in my room and still choosing to trust Him anyway. Saying, “Lord, I don’t understand what You’re doing… but I know You’re good.”

And that’s where I am right now.

Still believing, hoping, and still asking for wisdom and endurance.

If you think of me, I would truly appreciate your prayers that God would give me clarity when it’s time to move, peace while I wait, and endurance to keep walking this season with grace.

And if you’re in a hallway too, wondering when something will change, please know that the hallway is not a mistake. It’s not punishment. It’s not proof that you’ve failed.

It’s a space where God prepares you for what’s next. And the beautiful thing is that even when the doors are closed, He is still right there with you. I say this in a place of learning that myself.

May God be with you through whatever season you are walking through.

Much love and many prayers,
Vanessa