Your Breakthrough Is Coming — God Is Doing Something New in Your Life

• My dear friend, do you feel it? That strange stirring in your spirit, a divine restlessness you cannot name. Perhaps the ground beneath your feet, once so firm and familiar, feels like it’s shifting. The methods that used to work don’t. The prayers that once soared, seem to fall like lead. The season you knew so well has a chill in the air, and the leaves are turning a different color.
• And you think, “What is wrong with me? What is happening? I want to look you in the eye tonight and tell you with all the authority of heaven, nothing is wrong. Something is right. You are not falling apart. You are being set up. That unsettled feeling is not the enemy’s attack. It is the spirit’s nudge.
• You are in a sacred, holy moment of divine transition. And God is doing a new thing in your life. You see, God is a God of progression. He never leads us into a glorious place only to leave us there to stagnate and collect dust. The manner that sustained you in the desert will cease when you reach the promised land.
• Because a new season requires new nourishment. The cloud and fire that guided you by night and day will move. And when it moves, you must move with it. Even if it means packing up a comfortable camp. This discomfort you feel, this sense that the old wine skin is straining is the most positive sign you could have. It means the new wine is already being poured.
• The pressure you feel is not the weight of failure. It is the holy expansion of a greater anointing, a larger purpose, trying to fit into the confines of an old season. Think of the children of Israel. For generations, their season was defined by the brick kils of Egypt.
• Bondage, task masters, the relentless making of bricks without straw. It was a hard season, a cruel season, but it was a known season. Then came the plagues, the Passover, the great exodus, a new season of deliverance. They crossed the Red Sea on dry ground and danced on the other shore. But then the wilderness, the wilderness was not Egypt and it was not Canaan. It was the in between. It was the transition.
• And in that vast, empty, unfamiliar space, they grumbled. They longed for the leaks and onions of Egypt. They preferred the known bondage to the unknown promise. Why? Because transition is disorienting. It strips away the old landmarks. It asks us to trust the voice of God more than the memory of what was. And that is exactly where many of you are tonight.