The Lord has made a home for the sparrow,
A nest upon the branches,
A place where its wings can rest
And its little heart can belong.
So, I will not fear that my gift has nowhere to go.
If God made a home for the birds,
Then surely, He has prepared a place
For the skill He placed inside of me.
My skill will find its home.
The Lord opened the womb of Sarah,
And from a woman whose years had passed,
He brought forth laughter,
He turned impossibility into Isaac.
So I will not call my dreams too late.
I will not bury what God told me to build
Simply because the calendar says
It should have happened by now.
If He can bring a child from a ninety-year-old womb,
He can bring life to the dreams within me.
My dreams will come true.
He called Abraham
And made him leave what he knew
For a promise he could not yet see.
He led Joseph through the pit
Before placing him in the palace.
He took David from the sheepfold
And made a king out of a shepherd.
He found Moses in the wilderness
And placed a nation in his hands.
So perhaps this season is not rejection.
Perhaps it is preparation.
Perhaps the waiting is not wasted.
Perhaps the hidden place is where God is teaching my hands
To carry what my future will require.
The Lord who fed Elijah by ravens
Can sustain me in places I never expected.
The Lord who multiplied five loaves and two fish
Can multiply what looks too small in my hands.
The Lord who made a way through the Red Sea
Can make a way where I see none.
So, I will keep creating.
I will keep believing.
I will keep building.
I will keep knocking.
Because the God who gave the bird a nest
Has not forgotten where my gift belongs.
The God who remembered Sarah
Has not forgotten my dreams.
And the God who spoke a promise
Is faithful to finish what He began.
My skill will find its home.
My seed will find its soil.
My voice will find its audience.
My hands will find their work.
My dreams will find their appointed season.
For what God has planted in me,
He is able to bring to life.
And when the day comes,
I will look back and say:
It was never too late.
It was never too small.
It was never without a home.
God was simply leading me
To the place
He had prepared
For me.
This was written by our contributing writer, Uchennah Ottah.
Image Source: Pexels, Jeffry Surianto
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