July has been one of the most transformative and challenging, months I've experienced in a long time. It was a month marked by long waiting on the seeming silence of God, lingering doubts, and the different stages of grief. There even came a point where I found myself constantly talking to my cats. (Yes, that's one of my hidden talents. I talk to cats. HAHA! Kidding... well, not entirely.)
Beyond the humor, this season has been difficult.
The changing and unpredictable weather has not been kind to business. Rainy days tend to keep people indoors, choosing the comfort of warm blankets over wandering outside. As the pace around me slowed, I found myself wrestling with crippling thoughts brought on by overthinking.
Yet as I reflected, I noticed a familiar pattern.
Every season of apparent slowness has often become the quiet prelude to an unexpectedly busy one.
Mandatory post-workout shot. The pump was pumping! 😉😎
The first six months of 2026 moved so quickly that I hardly noticed time passing. Then July arrived, and suddenly everything felt as though it had come to a halt. The rhythm changed. The pace slowed. Delays seemed to unfold one after another.
At first, I resisted it.
I tried to push harder, work harder, and force momentum. But the more I fought against what I could not control, the more exhausted I became. Eventually, I realized there was no point in fighting a battle that was never mine to begin with.
Instead of resisting the current, I had to learn how to dance with it.
Some battles are never won by striving harder. They are won by surrendering deeper.
I prayed continually.
Day after day, my prayers remained unceasing until I finally came before God with nothing left to hide.
"Lord, my heart is weary. I'm tired. I'm broken. How long must I wait on You?"
There came a point when my frustrations reached their boiling point. Yet even in my disappointment, I knew there was no purpose in sulking before God. Rather than demanding answers, my prayers slowly transformed into simple dependence.
One day at a time.
One prayer at a time.
Leaving every care at His feet.
After all, I had exhausted every option I knew. I continued showing up every single day. I knew in my heart that I was giving my very best, doing with excellence whatever my hands found to do.
But I am still human.
So I asked Him honestly,
"Lord... why?"
"Why do I keep returning to these seasons where You allow my heart to be broken before You? You know I've been intentionally and faithfully following You for the past seven years. What have I missed? What are You teaching me? What are You revealing within my heart?"
The conversation began during the final worship song at Saturday night's service at CCF Main.
One line echoed repeatedly throughout the sanctuary:
"Here at Your feet, my desires and dreams, I lay down."
Again.
And again.
And again.
Those words remained on the screen as if God refused to let me look away.
Then my heart finally broke.
I found myself weeping.
Not because life had become unbearable, but because that single line exposed something I had been unconsciously holding onto.
Walking around Legazpi Village in Makati, I passed by Oliver Tolentino's window display. It made me smile. Sometimes, your vision of "someday" quietly appears right before your eyes, a gentle reminder to keep going, keep believing, and keep doing the work.
I knew what I wanted. I knew exactly how to pursue it. I knew how to execute every plan I had carefully built. But God gently confronted me with a question far greater than my own ambitions:
"Are you truly surrendered to what I want?"
Were my dreams really aligned with His will?
Or was there still a remnant within my heart that I needed to release before I could fully receive everything He had prepared for me?
That question quietly became the theme of my July.
And ever since, I have found myself continually wrestling, not against God, but with Him.
"Delays are uncomfortable because they expose where our hearts are truly anchored. As my conversations with God deepened, I began to understand that His timing is never delayed. What I often call a "delay" is simply the collision between my timeline and His perfect will. The truth is, I had quietly created deadlines for God."
I expected certain prayers to be answered within the timeframe that made sense to me. But as every expectation slowly unraveled, I was confronted with a reality I could no longer ignore:
There is only so much we can control. The rest belongs to Him.
During this season, I found myself spending less time searching for encouraging quotes and more time dwelling in God's Word. One phrase I often hear is,
"God gives His toughest battles to His strongest soldiers."
I've come to disagree. That statement sounds comforting, but it isn't found in Scripture. God does not measure suffering by our strength. Rather, He lovingly allows each of His children to walk through seasons that accomplish His perfect purposes. He leads us through delays, wilderness seasons, brokenness, grief, loss, and spiritual battles, not because He delights in our suffering, but because He is committed to our sanctification. Each season is tailor-made, not to prove how strong we are, but to reveal how desperately we need Him.
The greatest battle ever fought was never ours.
It was Christ's.
Jesus conquered sin and death once and for all through His finished work on the cross. Every battle we face today is fought from the victory He has already secured, not toward a victory we must earn. That realization shifted my perspective.
The more I immersed myself in Scripture, the more I discovered that God's Word does not merely comfort our emotions; it corrects our perspective. It lovingly dismantles every false hope we have built upon ourselves and redirects our gaze back to Christ.
"When we anchor ourselves in motivational sayings rather than in God's Word, we subtly begin centering our faith on ourselves instead of on Him. We pursue a diluted theology that celebrates self-reliance more than surrender. Our flesh naturally gravitates toward messages that affirm us. But the Spirit draws us toward Truth, even when that truth humbles us."
As for me, I would rather be lovingly rebuked by God's Word than temporarily comforted by empty encouragement.
For Scripture declares:
"For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart."
— Hebrews 4:12 (NKJV)
God used this season of delays and detours to expose the areas of my heart that still needed His transforming work.
Not to shame me. But to refine me. To reveal the remnants I had unknowingly continued carrying. The remnant of my brokenness. The remnants of pride disguised as self-sufficiency. The remnants of timelines I refused to surrender. The remnants of wounds I believed had already healed. Perhaps delays are not God's way of withholding His blessings. Perhaps they are His invitation to prepare our hearts so we can faithfully carry them when they finally arrive.
My love for Brutalist architecture. Raw, beautiful, and full of character. (Legazpi Village, Makati City)
As God continued to search my heart, He revealed something I thought I had already dealt with.
The remnants of yesterday.
Whenever memories of past wounds resurfaced, the bullying, the rejection, the painful conversations, and the countless moments that shaped my insecurities, I was reminded of God's grace. By His grace, I had already forgiven those who hurt me.
I knew that. Yet forgiveness does not erase memory. Sometimes, the memories still sting. Not because I desire revenge, but because scars have a way of reminding us where healing first began. Perhaps that is part of God's grace as well. The pain reminds us to remain dependent on Him. It reminds us that forgiveness is not a one-time decision but a daily posture of the heart. Every day, we choose not to allow bitterness, resentment, or offense to take root again. It is never easy. But it is always worth it.
Jesus never promised that forgiveness would feel effortless. He simply called us to forgive as we have been forgiven. The enemy delights in resurrecting what God has already redeemed. He continually whispers reminders of our past, hoping old wounds will become fresh wounds once again. His desire is to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10). But every accusation loses its voice before the finished work of Christ.
"Whenever spiritual battles arise, I remind myself that I no longer stand in my own righteousness. I stand beneath the victory of Jesus. No weapon formed against me shall prosper because I belong to Him."
That is why I continue praying for those who once wounded me. Not because they deserve it. But because neither did I. I pray that their eyes would be opened to Jesus, that they would encounter the same mercy that rescued me, and that they would experience the transforming grace that continues to change my own heart. Then I realized something. Perhaps God never delayed the blessing. Perhaps He delayed me. Not to punish me, but to purify me. He was dealing with the remnants still hidden within my heart.
The remnants of bitterness.
The remnants of resentment.
The remnants of envy.
The remnants of comparison.
The remnants of self-reliance.
The remnants of fear.
The remnants that quietly hindered me from fully receiving the abundant life Christ had already promised.
Not an abundance measured by success, possessions, or recognition.
But an abundance of love, joy, peace, faith, and hope. The kind of abundance that is found only in communion with Jesus Christ. As I continued releasing the remnants of my own heart, I also began embracing the remnant of His holiness. I have come to realize that God's grace reaches far beyond my understanding. Whenever I find myself drifting, becoming discouraged, or even tempted to sulk before Him, He faithfully draws me back, not with condemnation, but with conviction. That quiet conviction is one of His greatest gifts. It is the gentle voice of the Holy Spirit inviting us to repent, to humble ourselves, and to return to the Father's feet. There is no safer place to be.
Post-workout mirror selfie💪🏼 A little reminder of how far I've come. Aside from getting stronger, I still want to get as jacked as Jeff Nippard 😎 (we're the same height, by the way 🤨😉😏) The gym has become one of my sanctuaries. Everything else fades away when I train. IYKYK!!! 😁
As I surrendered the deepest longings of my heart, I experienced a profound realization:
I have always been fully seen.
Fully known.
Fully heard.
Fully protected.
God has never overlooked a single tear, a single prayer, or a single longing hidden within my heart. He has faithfully revealed Himself to me as El Roi, the God who sees.
As Jehovah Jireh, the God who provides.
And in this season, He has continually reminded me that He is my Adonai Nissi, my Lord, my Banner, the One who goes before me in every battle.
I no longer need to fight for what God has already claimed as His own.
The battle belongs to Him. My calling is much simpler.
To remain faithful.
To rejoice always.
To pray without ceasing.
"Spiritual warfare is real. But so is the victory of Christ."
My prayer is that your eyes would be opened to the invitation of Jesus and that your heart would never grow hardened toward His voice. May your walk with Him be marked by unwavering faith, not in yourself, not in the promises of this world, but in Christ alone.
His invitation has always been the same:
Come.
Lay everything at His feet.
Receive the abundant life only He can give.
The work has already been finished on the cross.
All that remains is our response.
Release the remnant that still clings to your heart.
Then let the remnant of Christ within you become visible for the world to see.
Only believe.
Sealing this with Love,
FROI
#DoulosDos
