It’s interesting how Scripture tells us not to forget God’s benefits.
At first glance, it feels unnecessary. How do you forget when God has come through for you? However, the truth is, forgetting doesn’t happen loudly; it happens subtly.
Life introduces new pressures, new needs, new expectations. And before you know it, yesterday’s testimony starts fading in the face of today’s reality. That’s why the Psalmist had to remind himself: forget not His benefits.
Man has a tendency to move quickly from what God has done to what God hasn’t done yet. And this is where the danger begins, when remembrance fades, gratitude weakens.
Beloved, this is a call to pause. Not to ignore your present reality, but to intentionally remember. Because a heart that remembers will always have the strength to trust.
If speed in the wrong direction is dangerous, the question becomes simple: how do we stay aligned with heaven’s direction for our lives?
First, resist the pressure of comparison. Scripture warns that those who measure themselves by others lack wisdom. God never designed your journey to look exactly like someone else’s. When comparison drives your decisions, you begin to pursue outcomes God never assigned to you.
Second, learn to value formation more than visibility. Moses spent forty quiet years in the wilderness before leading Israel. Those years were not wasted, they were preparation. When God finally sent him, he had the weight and character to carry the assignment.
Third, remember that divine timing protects destiny. Abraham tried to accelerate God’s promise through Ishmael. What seemed like a practical solution created complications that lasted generations. Sometimes the greatest act of faith is not moving faster, but waiting until God says move.
The believer’s advantage is not merely speed, it is guidance.
When heaven directs your steps, progress may look slower at times, but it is stable, meaningful, and enduring. And when God finally accelerates a man who has stayed aligned, the results are both swift and sustainable.
So pray for speed, yes. But pray even more for clarity.
Because in the end, it is better to walk steadily in God’s direction than to run quickly in your own.
And the one who follows God’s path will never arrive late at the place God prepared for him.
Everyone wants progress. Everyone wants momentum. No one prays to remain stagnant. And this makes sense because scripture is replete with how God can cause a man to move ahead swiftly.
However, I have come to realise that “speed only helps when the direction is right.”
In 1 Samuel 13, Saul faced pressure. The people were scattering, the battle was looming, and Samuel had not arrived yet. Everything in that moment demanded urgency. So Saul acted quickly. He offered the sacrifice himself instead of waiting for the prophet.
The funny thing is, on the surface, it looked responsible. It looked decisive. But it was speed in the wrong direction. What Saul called urgency, heaven called disobedience. That single moment set the tone for the loss of his kingdom.
Beloved, that’s the danger of misplaced speed. When pressure mounts, comparison creeps in. You look around and see others moving ahead, doors opening, opportunities expanding, results showing. And suddenly the temptation is to move quickly just to “catch up.”
Newsflash, the Kingdom doesn’t operate by comparison. David spent years in obscurity after being anointed king. Joseph carried dreams of rulership but walked through pits and prisons before the palace. In both cases, heaven was not slow; it was precise.
The truth is, everyone’s journey with God is unique. What looks like a delay may actually be divine alignment. And what looks like fast progress may sometimes be a dangerous detour.
So while speed is good and should be prayed for, direction is better. Remember, progress outside God’s agenda is not progress at all; it’s just movement.
If God doesn’t transact by experience, then what does He respond to?
Scripture consistently points us to alignment, obedience, and posture of heart.
The thing is, David wasn’t chosen because he had fought many battles. He was chosen because his heart was positioned toward God, even in obscurity. While others were visible, David was faithful. While others were being considered, David was being formed.
This teaches us something practical:”Proximity to spiritual things does not equal preparedness for divine responsibility.” It’s possible to serve around God and still drift from God. It’s possible to have history without intimacy, activity without alignment, and experience without submission.
So here’s the personal takeaway:
Don’t compete with people’s experience; tend your heart. Don’t rely on longevity; cultivate obedience. Don’t rush visibility. Embrace formation.
Because when God is ready to transact, He will look past resumes and reputations and search for hearts He can trust. And when He finds one, experience won’t be the requirement; availability will be enough.
One of the quiet assumptions many believers make is that experience automatically qualifies a person for divine dealings. That if someone has “been around,” served long enough, or seen certain things, then God must surely move through them next.
But Scripture tells a different story. When Samuel saw Eliab, David’s older brother, his immediate conclusion was that God’s choice had arrived. Strong presence. Military experience. Familiar profile. Yet God stopped him mid-thought. The transaction Samuel expected didn’t happen, not because Eliab lacked experience, but because God doesn’t transact based on experience.
Recognise that God is not impressed by how long we’ve been around, what we’ve seen, or how familiar we are with spiritual things. His dealings flow from something deeper, the heart. That’s why David, unseen and unannounced, was God’s choice.
The lesson is sobering: you can look ready and still not be chosen. You can feel qualified and still be bypassed. Because divine transactions are not experience-based, they are heart-based.
And if we’re honest, this challenges how we measure growth, relevance, and readiness.
If remembering how you got here is important, then learning how to live from that remembrance is even more critical.
Scripture shows us that forgetting God is rarely sudden. It happens gradually. A little success here. A little applause there. Then slowly, dependence shifts. Prayer becomes optional. Correction feels unnecessary. Gratitude becomes assumed. And before long, a person begins to operate as though grace was a one-time gift rather than a daily supply.
This was where Saul eventually struggled. The same man who once questioned why he deserved such honour later began to act as though the kingdom was his by right. The loss of remembrance opened the door to disobedience, impatience, and error. Not because God stopped being faithful, but because Saul stopped staying aware.
That’s one of the quiet lessons of Scripture: what brings a man into grace is not always what keeps him there. What keeps him there is humility, obedience, and constant dependence on God.
Contrast this with David. Despite his flaws, he never forgot where God picked him from. He traced everything, victories, preservation, favour, back to God. That posture didn’t make him perfect, but it kept him pliable. And God resists the proud, but He keeps giving grace to the humble.
So how do we apply this to real life?
First, keep God as your reference point, not your results. Results can fluctuate. Platforms can change. Seasons can shift. But when God remains your anchor, you don’t lose your bearings when things evolve.
Second, never graduate from gratitude. Gratitude isn’t a reaction to things going well; it’s a discipline that keeps your heart soft before God. When gratitude fades, entitlement usually takes its place.
Third, stay teachable, even when you’re experienced. The moment you feel too mature to be corrected, you’re already drifting. Growth in God never removes the need for instruction; it deepens it.
And finally, keep tracing the story back to God. When people ask how you got here, may your heart know the answer even if your words are simple. Grace brought you. Mercy kept you. God sustained you.
Beloved, relevance in the Kingdom is not sustained by talent alone. Progress is not preserved by strategy alone. It is sustained by a heart that never forgets the Source.
So wherever you are right now, beginning, building, or blossoming, pause once in a while and remind yourself: “If God hadn’t helped me, I wouldn’t be here.”
That remembrance will keep you aligned. It will keep you grateful. And it will keep you progressing, without falling out of grace.
I’ve been quiet for a while, not because there was nothing on my heart, but because sometimes silence helps you see things more clearly. And as I prepared to resume, this truth kept echoing in my spirit: “Never forget how you got here.”
There’s a quiet danger that comes with progress. When prayers start getting answers, when things begin to align, when people start paying attention, it’s easy to move forward and slowly lose sight of the Source. Not intentionally, but subtly.
In 1 Samuel 9, Saul was being introduced to a future he never imagined. He was about to be anointed king, yet his response to Samuel was almost puzzled. He questioned why such words were being spoken to him at all. That moment reveals something powerful: Saul still remembered where he was coming from. He knew how unlikely the moment was. He understood that what was unfolding couldn’t be credited to personal strength, pedigree, or preparation. It was grace.
That posture matters.
One of the greatest tests of our walk with God is not adversity, but advancement. Hard seasons tend to keep us dependent. Good seasons, if we’re not careful, can make us forgetful. And when remembrance fades, reverence often follows.
Scripture consistently shows us that those who stayed relevant with God were those who never forgot the journey, how God picked them, helped them, preserved them, and carried them. They traced every victory back to Him. That constant awareness kept them grounded, teachable, and aligned.
The moment a believer begins to think, “I’m here because I figured it out,” something has already shifted. Not outwardly, but inwardly.
Grace doesn’t just bring us into places; it keeps us there. And one of the ways grace preserves a man is by teaching him to remember. Not with shame. Not with insecurity. But with humility, gratitude, and awe.
So as we step into new seasons, new responsibilities, new platforms, new challenges, this question must remain close: “Lord, how did I get here?”
Forgetting that God is the source is one of the fastest ways to lose alignment, clarity, and eventually ground.
We’ll take this further in the next part, how remembrance protects us from error, sustains relevance, and keeps us progressing even when seasons change.
At some point in your walk with God, you will realise that understanding His sovereignty isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about learning to rest in the One who does.
The greatest proof of maturity is not how loudly we shout “Amen,” but how quietly we can trust when heaven seems silent. That’s where sovereignty meets surrender. Beloved, surrender doesn’t mean giving up; it means giving in to God’s higher wisdom, to His timing, to His ways. It’s saying, “Lord, I don’t have to understand it all to trust You through it all.”
A good example of this is Job, who lost everything, and when he finally said, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him,” something shifted. That was not resignation, it was revelation. Job stopped wrestling for control and started resting in conviction. Interestingly, that’s the turning point for every believer who has wrestled with the mystery of God’s ways. Because in the end, His sovereignty isn’t meant to confuse us; it’s meant to anchor us. To teach us that even when we don’t understand His hand, we can still trust His heart.
Paul captured it beautifully: “For of Him, and through Him, and to Him, are all things.” In essence, everything begins with Him, flows through Him, and ultimately ends with Him. So what looks like a detour in your life may actually be divine direction in disguise. (Romans 11:36)
Beloved, the true test of faith is not in how quickly we get answers, but in how deeply we stay rooted when the answers delay. And sometimes, God doesn’t explain Himself; He just reveals Himself. And that revelation is always enough.
My prayer for you is that you find rest in the God who reigns without rival, rules without counsel, and loves without condition. Remember, He is sovereign, and that’s not a reason to fear; it’s a reason to worship.
I have come to realise that there are moments when God’s ways cut deep, not because He’s cruel, but because He’s carving something holy.
We love the parts of His plan that make sense, the breakthroughs that come after prayer, and the testimonies that sound neat and inspiring. But what about the parts that don’t? I am referring to the delay that feels unfair. The betrayal you didn’t see coming. The door you believed for but never opened.
I reckon that in those moments, His sovereignty stings. Yet, Scripture reminds us that His ways are not just higher, they are holy. In essence, set apart, pure, flawless in purpose. So even when His ways hurt, they are never random.
This reminds me of how God asked Abraham to sacrifice Isaac, the very promise He gave him. What kind of God asks for what He just provided? However, behind that pain was a deeper revelation: God was not after Isaac; He was after Abraham’s heart. And on that mountain, Abraham didn’t just meet Jehovah, he met Jehovah Jireh (Genesis 22:14).
Then there was Naomi, who lost her husband and sons, and her words were bitter: “The Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me.” (Ruth 1:20).But even in that bitterness, God was writing a redemptive story, one that would eventually produce David, and from David’s line, Christ Himself.
Beloved, sometimes, God’s ways hurt because He’s pruning us for fruitfulness. Other times, they hurt because He’s aligning us with His eternal plan.Either way, He never wastes the pain of those who love Him.
Recognise that holiness doesn’t always look like glory; sometimes it looks like grief that later gives birth to glory. And if you stay long enough in the fire, you’ll realise that it was never meant to burn you, but to refine you.
Here is what I am saying, “when God’s ways hurt, don’t run. Stay. Trust. Worship. Because what feels heavy now will one day make sense, and when it does, you’ll see that His ways were not only higher, they were holy.
Have you ever been in a season where you genuinely couldn’t make sense of what God was doing? You prayed, waited, obeyed, and still… silence.
Newsflash! God didn’t go missing; He just didn’t explain Himself. Job understood this feeling well. One day, everything was perfect; his business, children, and health were intact. Then, almost overnight, he lost it all. And when he sought answers, God didn’t sit him down to explain why. He didn’t tell Job that there was a heavenly conversation going on or that the trial had an expiry date. He simply said, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” (Job 38:4).
God’s posture is likely to sound harsh until you realise that what He was really doing was reminding Job that He is the unquestionable
God. Sometimes, God’s silence is not rejection; it’s preservation. And his lack of explanation is often an invitation to trust.
I can only imagine what went through Mary’s mind when she was visited by an angel with news that she would give birth to the Son of God, and then left to live with the confusion that came with it. No one explained how she’d handle the shame, the stares, or even Joseph’s initial doubts. Yet, she believed and said, “Be it unto me according to Your word.” (Luke 1:38).
Beloved, one of the signs of spiritual maturity is learning to trust God even when He doesn’t give details. However, even when He isn’t explaining, He often offers us something better: His presence. If you ask me, that’s more than enough.
So the next time you don’t understand what God is doing, take a deep breath and remember: He may not explain Himself, but He never abandons His own. You may not know the why now, but one day, you’ll look back and say, “Now I see what God was doing all along.”