A Wednesday View from a Pew: Stepping Into Your Own Season

As the new year draws near and the winds of uncertainty begin to blow, many of us find ourselves restless — sitting at our desks, driving home in silence, or staring at the ceiling at night wondering, “Is this all there is?” Job security doesn’t feel so secure anymore. Promotions feel political, loyalty feels lopsided, and peace feels like a privilege we can’t afford.

Maybe God has been whispering to you — quietly but consistently — that it’s time to take that leap of faith. To trust the vision He placed in your heart. To step out of the comfort of routine and into the courage of calling.

Because there comes a moment when you must face a hard truth: the same company that praised your loyalty could replace you before lunch. You gave them your best years — showed up early, stayed late, missed birthdays, sacrificed family time, and played by every rule. Yet when the cuts came, your name was still on the list.

And the truth is, loyalty doesn’t always buy you security; sometimes it buys you silence. The longer you stay loyal without boundaries, the easier it becomes for others to forget your worth. You become the dependable one, the fixer, the “only one who can get it done” — and while they sleep peacefully at night, you’re lying awake carrying the weight of work that doesn’t even belong to you.

Putting yourself first isn’t selfish — it’s spiritual survival. It’s saying, “I deserve to be whole, not just helpful.” It’s realizing that God didn’t create you to live on autopilot, keeping someone else’s dream alive while yours slowly dies from neglect. It’s coming home from work and building your dream — brick by brick, prayer by prayer. It’s getting strategic about your next move, learning what fits you, and packaging your experience into a story that positions you for the next level God has already prepared.

They can’t break you, but they will overwork you and call it a compliment. They’ll say, “You’re the only one I trust,” and soon your reliability becomes your reputation. But here’s the danger — when your reward is more responsibility instead of recognition, that’s not growth. That’s grooming. And when people know you’ll always say yes, they stop checking if you’re okay.

So don’t let exhaustion become the proof of your value. Don’t confuse being needed with being nurtured. Being overwhelmed isn’t a sign of importance — it’s a sign that you’ve been performing peace while dying for balance.

Let them find someone else to depend on for a while. Let them whisper that you’ve changed, that you’ve become difficult, that you’re different — because you are. You’re evolving. You’re no longer living for validation; you’re living for vision.

You were never created to be depleted — you were created to be developed. Burnout is not a badge of honor; it’s an alarm clock from heaven reminding you that you’ve been carrying more than what God assigned to you. So as this year ends, take a moment to breathe. To rest. To regroup. To rediscover what sets your soul on fire.

And as you step into a new season, remember this: You don’t owe anyone your peace to prove your worth. You don’t have to shrink to make others comfortable. You don’t have to wait for permission to pursue what’s already yours.

This coming year, stop surviving your job — and start living your calling. Because faith was never meant to be comfortable; it was meant to be courageous. And sometimes, the biggest step you’ll ever take isn’t onto a stage or into a promotion — it’s the one that leads you into the life God designed for you all along.