Protecting the Promise

Some promises need time to grow in private before they are ready to be revealed in public. Protect the promise. Trust the process. Let God prepare you for what He has prepared for you.

Today, I found myself thinking about Elizabeth.

Her story has always resonated with me, but this time, one particular detail stood out:

After finally becoming pregnant, Elizabeth hid herself for five months.

“Now after those days his wife Elizabeth conceived; and she hid herself five months, saying, ‘Thus the Lord has dealt with me, in the days when He looked on me, to take away my reproach among people.’”

— Luke 1:24–25 (NKJV)

Think about that.

She had waited years for this promise.

Years of prayers.

Years of disappointment.

Years of living with the stigma of infertility in a culture where a woman's inability to have children could bring tremendous shame.

Then, finally, the impossible happened.

She conceived.

Elizabeth said:

"The Lord has done this for me. In these days He has shown His favor and taken away my disgrace among the people."

Can you imagine how she must have felt?

After everything she had endured, she finally had evidence that God had heard her prayers.

If it had been me, I might have wanted to tell everybody!

Especially the people who doubted me.

Especially the people who talked about me.

Especially the people who had mistaken my waiting season for God's rejection.

But Elizabeth did something very different.

She withdrew.

For five months, she protected what God was growing inside of her.

And lately, I've been thinking there may be a lesson in that for all of us.

Not Every Promise Needs an Immediate Announcement

We live in a world that encourages us to announce everything.

The new relationship.

The new job.

The business idea.

The pregnancy.

The opportunity.

The vision.

Sometimes we haven't even had time to process what God is doing before we're ready to post about it.

But I've learned that some things need to grow in private before they can survive in public.

Aligned Purpose Agency was one of those things for me.

I often refer to APA as my baby because, in many ways, that's exactly what it feels like.

And this baby was born on my birthday—January 15, 2026.

I had spent nearly two years waiting for God to show me what was next after experiencing what looked like a major setback in my previous business.

Then, suddenly, on what seemed like an ordinary day, the vision came.

I was ecstatic.

I stayed up that night writing, planning, dreaming, and capturing everything God was revealing.

After such a long season of waiting, I finally had an answer.

And yet...

I told almost no one.

Sometimes Wisdom Says, "Protect the Baby"

Did I want to shout it from the rooftop?

Absolutely.

Particularly after what I had experienced during my season of preparation.

That season was humbling.

For a while, it looked like absolutely nothing was changing.

There were moments when I felt a little like Job. I knew I was trying to obey God, yet from the outside, my circumstances could have suggested something entirely different.

Some people misunderstood what was happening.

Some questioned my decisions.

Some eventually disappeared.

After everything I had walked through, I knew this new vision was too precious to immediately expose to everyone's opinion.

I needed to protect my baby.

I wanted to protect her from the voices that might ask:

"Why would you start another business now?"

"Why don't you just get a job? It would be more stable."

"Isn't that market already saturated?"

"How long is it going to take before you actually make money?"

I wasn't afraid of constructive wisdom.

I simply understood that there is a difference between wise counsel and unbelief.

And when something is still developing, you have to be careful which voices you allow near it.

I Had Written About This Before

There's something about this that makes me smile now.

As Aligned Purpose Agency was evolving, I wrote a book called Guard the Vision: Overcoming the Hidden Attacks That Threaten Your God-Given Purpose.

At the time, I was writing about lessons God had taught me concerning recognizing, protecting, and stewarding the vision He places inside of us.

Looking back, I realize something:

I wrote about guarding the vision while God was giving me another vision that would require everything I had learned.

Isn't that just like God?

Sometimes the lesson He's teaching you today is preparation for something you haven't even seen yet.

The principles I had written about were no longer simply words on the pages of a book.

I was living them.

I was guarding the vision.

I was protecting the promise.

And I was learning that when God entrusts you with something precious, stewardship sometimes requires silence.

If you're carrying a God-given vision of your own and learning how to protect what has been entrusted to you, you can learn more about Guard the Vision here.

I Needed Time to Nurture What God Had Given Me

Instead of explaining the vision to everyone, I built.

Quietly.

I prayed over it.

I researched.

I wrote.

I developed the foundation.

I allowed God to show me what Aligned Purpose Agency was supposed to become before I allowed other people's opinions to tell me what it couldn't become.

Eventually, I shared the vision with a very small circle.

Actually...

Two people.

Michael and Elaine Johnson.

I jokingly think of them as APA's "godparents," but today they're the directors of Aligned Purpose Agency.

They were among the people who prayed with me as I birthed this vision.

They didn't suffocate the baby with doubt.

They spoke life over her.

They contributed their time, prayers, wisdom, and energy to helping nurture what God had placed in my hands.

And that taught me another important lesson:

Protecting the promise doesn't mean you have to carry it alone.

It means becoming discerning about who is allowed into the room while it's developing.

The Late-Night Feedings

When I think about all the late nights I've spent "feeding" this baby, I smile.

I've poured countless hours into building APA.

Planning.

Writing.

Creating.

Praying.

Learning.

Reworking things when they didn't quite fit.

And watching this little vision grow.

APA has come so far in such a short period of time, and I know we're only getting started.

But sometimes I think back to the woman who sat before God asking:

"What's next for me?"

There were days when it seemed like no answer was coming.

Nothing was moving.

Nothing was changing.

And then...

Suddenly.

On an ordinary day, God revealed what He had been developing inside of me all along.

Maybe the Waiting Isn't Empty

That's something I wish I had understood earlier.

The journey toward a promise can feel unbearably long and painfully quiet.

But quiet doesn't mean empty.

And waiting doesn't mean nothing is happening.

Something was happening in me.

God was preparing the woman who would eventually have to carry what He was preparing to place in her hands.

Looking back now, I can say something I couldn't always say during the difficult seasons:

I'm grateful for the process.

The woman I am today is better prepared to steward this vision than the woman I was several years ago.

The waiting matured me.

The disappointment humbled me.

The uncertainty deepened my faith.

And the things that once produced bitterness and frustration in me have slowly been replaced by gratitude and love for a Father who knew what He was doing all along.

To the Person Still Waiting

Maybe you're reading this while carrying a promise of your own.

Perhaps it's a physical baby.

Maybe it's a business.

A marriage.

A ministry.

A book.

A career change.

A dream you've barely whispered to anyone.

Or perhaps you haven't even seen evidence of the promise yet.

You're simply waiting.

If that's you, I want to encourage you:

Don't despise the hidden season.

Everything God gives us doesn't need to be announced immediately.

Some promises need prayer before publicity.

Some dreams need roots before exposure.

Some visions need protection before promotion.

And sometimes God hides what He's developing because He knows what it will eventually have to withstand.

Elizabeth couldn't hide her pregnancy forever.

Eventually, what had been growing privately became visible publicly.

And the child she carried wasn't simply an answer to her personal prayer.

John had an assignment.

Her promise was connected to something much bigger than her.

Perhaps yours is too.

Scripture Meditation

When waiting becomes difficult, Psalm 27:13–14 NKJV is a beautiful reminder:

"I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; wait, I say, on the Lord!"

I've learned that waiting well doesn't mean never becoming tired, frustrated, or disappointed.

It means continuing to bring those emotions back to God and allowing Him to strengthen your heart while you wait.

Sometimes waiting well means praying when you don't see movement.

Sometimes it means continuing to prepare when there's no evidence that anything is changing.

Sometimes it means celebrating someone else's promise while you're still waiting for yours.

And sometimes...

waiting well means knowing when to be quiet, when to build, when to seek wise counsel, and when to simply protect the promise.

Now I Want to Hear From You

I've shared a lot of my story through The Purpose Journal, but I don't want this journal to only be a place where you read my story.

I want to hear yours too.

So here's my question for you:

What are you waiting on God for in this season, and what does "waiting well" look like for you?

You don't have to share anything deeply personal. Your answer might simply be direction, family, business, healing, opportunity, purpose, or even "I'm not ready to say."

And perhaps you're on the other side of a long waiting season.

If so, what do you know now that you wish you could tell the version of yourself who was still waiting?

Share your thoughts in the comments.

Someone else reading this entry may be walking through the very season you've already survived. Your words could be the encouragement they need to keep going.

Because while we may be waiting on different promises...

none of us has to wait alone.