The Frozen Interval
When motion halts but purpose does not fade,
And faith stands firm while strength is held in place,
The soul is paused,
Restrained by love it cannot yet replace;
The path is known, though feet refuse to go,
The call remains, though sound is pressed to low,
Here waiting learns obedience by still,
And silence shapes what shouting never will,
The heart is trained to trust without debate,
Alive, yielded to His will—
This frozen interval is kept by grace.
Not loss, not fall, but mercy in delay,
A guarded fire beneath unburning ash,
God slows the hand that would outrun the way,
And saves the future from a hurried clash;
Old strength is drained, so deeper roots may grow,
And pride unlearns what patience longs to know,
Here power rests until it flows as breath,
Not driven force, but life reborn from death,
For timing crowns what effort cannot create,
And love matures when striving bows to faith—
This frozen interval is kept by grace.
The thaw comes soft, not summoned by demand,
No sudden roar to prove the night is gone,
But quiet warmth released by heaven’s hand,
Where rest restores what pressure could not form;
First breath returns, then courage clothed in small,
A single step aligned with heaven’s call,
No guilt to push, no fear to accelerate,
Just grace that moves at God’s appointed rate,
The soul walks without the weight of haste,
Alive again, governed by His pace—
This frozen interval is kept by grace.
So let the heart remain without despair,
Unashamed of stillness dressed as night,
For God is near when answers are not there,
And works unseen beyond the reach of sight;
This pause is a womb,
A sacred hold where futures learn their face,
Here strength is healed before it learns to act,
And love is formed untouched by old contract,
What waits today will rise in truer state,
Refined and freed from former lack—
This frozen interval is kept by grace.
When movement comes, it will not bruise the soul,
Nor burn with borrowed fire or fragile zeal,
But flow from life made steady and whole,
Where grace alone becomes the strength made real;
The pause will end, yet leave its holy mark,
Roots sunk in trust, eyes trained to walk the dark,
No force applied, no glory seized too soon,
The fruit will come in heaven’s chosen noon,
For those who wait will rise,
By God who moves when time itself stands tuned—
This frozen interval is kept by grace.
O waiting hearts preserved beyond the race,
Trust God within the stillness He ordained—
This frozen interval is kept by grace.
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