Jesus Didn’t Wait for Perfect — and Neither Does God

When you consider the birth of Christ, have you ever really thought about the timing?

Jesus chose the worst possible moment to be born.

Mary and Joseph weren’t settled. They weren’t prepared. They weren’t surrounded by family or comfort. They were traveling—on the road—because taxes were due. They were headed to another city with very little provision, very little certainty, and no guarantee of shelter.

And that’s when Jesus came.

He didn’t wait until everything was lined up.

He didn’t wait until the destination was reached.

He didn’t wait for comfort, convenience, or control.

He came in the middle of the trip.

In the middle of uncertainty.

In the middle of lack.

In the middle of inconvenience.

And that alone should speak volumes to us.

So often, we believe God will move after things get better.

After the healing.

After the breakthrough.

After the finances improve.

After the chaos settles.

But the story of Jesus’ birth tells us something very different:

God does not require perfect conditions to produce purpose.

In fact, it’s often at the worst possible moment—when we feel most unqualified, most unprepared, most undone—that God presents the greatest opportunity.

If we rewind the story just a bit, we meet Mary before the journey even begins. God tells her she will give birth to the Savior of the world, and her response is immediate and honest:

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?” — Luke 1:34

Mary didn’t deny God.

She didn’t refuse the call.

She simply pointed out what she believed was a limitation.

And don’t we do the same?

“How will this be… since

I’m an addict?

I’m divorced?

I’m alone?

I’m broke?

I’ve failed too many times?”

We look at our experience—or lack of it—and assume it disqualifies us.

But here’s something we need to remember, especially when life hurts:

When you are hurting, your interpretation of the event cannot always be trusted.

Mary saw limitation. God saw potential.

Mary was limited by what she knew of her own body.

God was speaking to what He knew of His own power.

And that’s when the angel responds—not by explaining the process, but by revealing the source:

“The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” — Luke 1:35

Mary asked HOW.

God answered with WHO.

That right there will preach all by itself.

Because when you don’t know how something is going to work out, you can still stand firm if you know WHO is involved.

That’s why I can say with confidence:

I know who I am because I know whose I am.

This past year has stretched many of us.

Pain. Loss. Fear. Disappointment. Uncertainty.

And when disappointment piles up, we start living from what we’ve experienced instead of what God is still trying to birth.

Hear me clearly:

Don’t let a limitation become a stop sign.

What feels like an ending may actually be a womb.

What feels like delay may be development.

What feels like loss may be making room.

Scripture reminds us of this truth in Romans 8:28:

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

Not some things.

Not only the good things.

All things.

Even the painful ones.

Even the confusing ones.

Even the inconvenient ones.

This is my final blog of 2025.

And as I close out this year—reflecting on my own journey—I want to leave you with this:

Give yourself grace for where you are, so you can get where you’re going.

God is not waiting for your life to be perfect.

He’s already present in the middle of it.

And something greater is always being born in the painful place.

Here’s to stepping into the new year with hope, trust, and the courage to believe that God is still at work—right where you are

My Closing Prayer for 2025

God,

As this year comes to an end, I pause—not to rush ahead, but to reflect. I thank You for carrying me through what I didn’t understand, what I didn’t expect, and what I didn’t choose. Thank You for being present in the messy middle, the inconvenient seasons, and the moments where I felt unprepared and unsure.

Forgive me for the times I doubted Your timing, questioned Your purpose, or allowed disappointment to distort my perspective. Help me release the weight of what didn’t work out, what hurt, and what I thought should have looked different.

I give You the unanswered questions, the unfinished chapters, and the pain I don’t yet have language for.

I trust that nothing in this year was wasted—not a tear, not a delay, not a detour.

I end this year with gratitude, humility, and hope—knowing You were with me the entire way.

Amen.

My Words of Blessing over my readers for 2026

As you step into 2026, may you walk forward with courage instead of fear, and faith instead of control.

May you recognize God’s presence not only in clarity, but in uncertainty.

May you trust that even when you don’t know how, you are never without Who.

May limitations lose their power over you, and may grace meet you exactly where you are.

May healing continue, purpose unfold, and wisdom guide every step you take.

May you give yourself permission to grow—slowly, honestly, and boldly.

And may you remember this truth all year long:

God does not wait for perfect conditions to do powerful things.

You are covered.

You are called.

And something new is being born.

Amen.