Why We Rush Through Hardship (and Why the Greatest Transformations Happen When We Don't)
Introduction: The Uncomfortable Urge to Rush
Have you ever been in a difficult, challenging, or transitional phase of life where your only thought was, "How fast can I get through this?" It’s a deeply human tendency. We want to get to the other side as quickly as possible, to minimize the disruption, distance ourselves from the pain, and deny the pressing reality rather than linger in the discomfort. We long for the chapter to close so we can begin writing the sequel where everything is secure and settled again.
But what if the most profound transformation happens not by rushing ahead, but by intentionally lingering in those uncomfortable, in-between moments? The spiritual truth is that it is precisely in the transitional that we most often experience the transformational. This post explores a few powerful stories that reveal the incredible wisdom of daring to pause.
Takeaway 1: The Pause to Ponder
Finding Fulness in the Empty Space
Not long ago, I found myself in a pickle of a predicament. I knew I wanted to live, work, and minister in my hometown of Round Top, Texas. I also knew I wanted a dog. And, at this phase of my life, I was looking to rent. I called Frank Hillbold, a local realtor and friend who always seems to be in the know.
I laid out my seemingly impossible request. “Frank,” I began, “I know that what I am seeking likely does not exist. Yes, I can spell the word impossible. I am P-O-SS-I-Ble-E. Yes, Frank, I’m good enough in math to understand what 0% means.”
Then came a very long, pregnant pause. My human tendency was to fill that space with idle chatter, to overstate the obvious so the spirit can’t get a word in edgewise. But Frank said nothing. He engaged completely in that pause—a time to ponder, pay attention, and listen.
"That prolonged silence turned out to be the pause that changed my life. Finally, after what seemed like completely empty space, I realized just how full it was."
When he finally spoke, Frank said, "I think my mother just spoke to me and I think she said that you're supposed to live in the farmhouse. It's rustic. It's charming. It's empty and available. And best of all, it's got a yard with a fence so you can have a dog."
What I didn’t know then was that Frank’s mother, Charlotte, had been the director of her church’s Altar Guild for years. I didn’t know the very porch of that farmhouse was where a prayer group found its purpose. And when my new dog and I moved in, the first piece of Charlotte’s sheet music I pulled off the shelf was a collection by Betty Pulingham—the mother of our church’s guitarist. God winked yet again. By refusing to prematurely fill in the blanks, we make room for the impossible.
Takeaway 2: The Pause to Pray
Finding Your Place in Displacement
There is a counter-intuitive spiritual truth that our true calling is often revealed in the most disruptive and disturbing circumstances. It is in our displacement that we often find our true place. This is where we learn the power of the pause to pray.
Consider the children of Israel in Babylonian captivity. It was no one's fault but their own, and all they could think about was getting back home to the comfort and familiarity they knew. But God, through the prophet Jeremiah, had other plans. He told them, "You're not going anywhere. I want you to settle down and settle in. Plant yourselves right where you are. Put down roots… and pray for the welfare of the place in which you find yourselves in captivity, for in its welfare you will find your own."
I hate that about God. Always concerned that his children are concerned about the welfare of others. But it’s a staggering instruction: find your purpose not by escaping hardship, but by investing in the very place of your struggle. The Apostle Paul understood this profoundly. He wrote many of his most transformational letters while imprisoned. He knew that circumstances could not limit his calling.
"I may be chained, but the gospel that I proclaim even here, even now is perpetually unchained."
This reframes hardship entirely. It’s not just an obstacle to overcome, but a place where God can use us, right where we are, to make a difference.
Takeaway 3: A Patient Pause Can Invite a Miracle
The Miracle That Waits for Our Surrender
Years ago, my friend Ben and I were on what we called our “blues, booze, pews, and barbecue pilgrimage” through the Mississippi Delta. We discovered that a favorite artist was opening for Kevin Costner’s new band in Jackson, Mississippi, the very next night. We were thrilled, until we found out the concert had been sold out for months. The woman on the phone literally laughed when I asked about tickets.
That night, wanting to take matters into my own hands, I approached the bartender at the venue. After a pause, he told me one single ticket had just been returned. I said, "There's one of me. I'll take it." As you might imagine, Ben was thrilled when I told him that I had prayed for the welfare of myself and myself alone.
The next afternoon, after visiting Eudora Welty's home, we got into the car and Ben engaged in a very long, pregnant pause. It seemed like prayer. When he was finished, he smiled. Like a man who had heard the voice of God or the spirit or his mama or some other angel, Ben said, "I got a good feeling right now. We're going now." I pointed out that the concert was still three hours away, but he was insistent.
We pulled into the parking lot, and just as we walked past the giant tour bus, the doors flung open. Out walked Kevin Costner. He shook our hands, thanked us for coming, and then shouted to his tour director, "Get these two guys VIP tickets. They're my special guests of honor tonight."
In that moment, I remembered the words of the other prophets: Those who wait upon the Lord, who do not rush on ahead… shall not only mount up with wings like eagles, they shall get VIP treatment.
Takeaway 4: The Pause to Praise
The Pause That Completes the Miracle: Gratitude
This brings us to the final, essential pause: the pause to praise.
Think of the story of the healed lepers. Who could blame them for racing ahead toward their new lives, for embracing a future where they were finally whole again? It’s completely understandable.
And yet, there was one. There was one who paused and pondered and prayed, and then he turned back and gave praise to God. Before fully embracing his new life, he recognized that the most faithful response in that moment was simply to go back and give thanks. Even after the breakthrough, after the miracle, our work is to take a moment to be grateful for the blessings we have right now, wherever we find ourselves.
Conclusion: Will You Dare to Pause?
Our instinct is almost always to rush—to rush through pain, to rush to a solution, to rush into the next chapter. But in story after story, we see that wisdom, grace, and transformation are found not in the rushing, but in the stillness. The most profound work happens in the intentional acts of pausing to ponder, pray, and praise.
Come now and see the works of God. The next time you find yourself in a challenging transition or an uncomfortable silence, will you rush to fill it, or will you dare to pause and see what divine work unfolds?
