Be For Real: When Holiness Becomes the Prayer

In this past season of my life, I made holiness my prayer request while God has been working overtime to tell me one thing:

"You will not miss what I have for you… this time."

That hit me differently. It wasn’t the kind of encouragement that just makes you feel good for a moment. It was a word that sat heavy in my spirit—because I knew what it meant. I knew what missing it had looked like in the past. I could feel the weight of all the times I wasn't ready, all the times I wasn't aligned, all the times I was too compromised to carry what He was trying to give me.

This time, God is being clear. This time, there’s no room for me to play around with the grace on my life. At the beginning of a recent fast, He literally woke me up out of my sleep and said:

“Beyond her years and My years I will consider My hand.”

And that shook me. It was His way of saying, “I’m about to bless you beyond your experience, beyond your wisdom, beyond your belief.” This blessing isn’t coming because I did something right—and nothing I do wrong can cancel it. It’s coming becauseHe wants to bless me.

But as I prayed, I couldn’t shake this other thought: Part of me feels like something demonic was holding this blessing back. I said it out loud today:

“I don’t know what God’s doing but when it’s done, whatever’s been holding this back is gonna be done too.”

And I truly believe that. God wasn’t tripping off my ways. He wasn’t pacing heaven wondering if my cycles would mess everything up. He was laughing, because the enemy’s doomsday was already on the calendar. The same God who convicts me is also the God who protects me. The same God who calls me higher is the One who fights for me while I’m still figuring it out.

I see it now—God had prepared the same setups, the same doors, the same opportunities over and over again. But in His mercy, He kept me from walking through them. Not just because I wasn’t ready, but because the opposition waiting on the other side would’ve devoured me. He was building me, shaping me, hiding me, strengthening me for the moment when both my character and His timing would collide.

And so I had to get real with myself.

Real about my capacity for compromise.

Real about how often I wasn’t living set apart.

Real about the fact that I kept going through cycles of sin.

I wasn’t worthy of what God was doing.

And then one day I told Him, "I want to walk worthy of this high calling."

Instead of clapping for me, God checked me. He said:

"Wow. I’m trying to bless you, and you’re not even asking Me for the blessing—you’re asking Me for holiness."

That convicted me, but it also comforted me. Because it meant I was finally asking for the right thing. Holiness. Real, deep consecration. Not just to look like Him, but to live like Him. Not just to be gifted, but to be trustworthy with the gift.

Then came the moment that really pushed me over the edge. I had been calling people, asking them to pray for me—for consecration, for clarity, for a deeper level of devotion. But after one of those calls, the Lord whispered something I couldn’t shake:

"If you really wanted to be holy, you’d live holy. I already sanctified you."

That’s when it hit me.

I thought I needed to be delivered, but God told me: be for real.

Be for real about the choices I’m making. Be for real about what I’m watching, saying, entertaining. Be for real about how I keep saying I want to be holy, but I don’t walk in holiness. Because if I really wanted it… I’d live like it.

And let’s be honest—I haven’t been giving God my all. I haven’t been being who I’m becoming. I’ve been choosing things, people, and patterns that are beneath me. That doesn’t make me worthless—but it does mean I have to stop. Stop settling. Stop cycling. Stop pretending partial surrender is enough.

Now, I pray more than ever—not just for blessings, not just for open doors, but for holiness. That I would walk worthy of the call. That my family would too. That you would.

That the kingdom of darkness would be overthrowneverywhere.

Because one thing I know now:

God’s not worried.

The enemy’s doomsday is coming.

And this time, we’re not going to miss it.