You’ve been reading these posts about coming home. About the prodigal son. About how the Father is waiting with open arms. About how it’s never too late and you’re still welcome.
And maybe part of you wants to believe it.
But another part of you is thinking: I’m not ready yet.

Maybe you’re still angry at the church. Maybe you’re still working through your doubts. Maybe you’re still processing the hurt. Maybe you’re still figuring out what you actually believe.
Maybe the idea of “coming home” sounds good in theory, but in practice, you’re just… not there yet.
And you’re wondering: Is that okay? Can I take my time with this? Or does God have a deadline I’m running up against?
Here’s what I want you to know: You’re allowed to not be ready yet.
The Pressure to Have It All Figured Out
There’s this unspoken pressure in Christian circles to have everything resolved quickly. To move from doubt to certainty, from distance to devotion, from hurt to healing in one decisive moment.
We talk about conversion experiences and altar calls and moments of surrender like they’re light switches—one second you’re off, the next second you’re on.
And maybe for some people, it works that way. Maybe some people do have a single moment where everything clicks into place and they never look back.
But for a lot of us? It’s messier than that.
It’s a slow turning. A gradual thawing. A tentative step forward, then two steps back. It’s wrestling with God like Jacob, limping away from the encounter but somehow blessed by it.
It’s being drawn toward home while still being terrified of what coming home actually means.
And if that’s where you are, you’re not failing. You’re not doing it wrong. You’re just being honest about where you are in the process.
What “Not Ready Yet” Really Means
When you say “I’m not ready yet,” what you’re usually saying is one of these things:
“I still have questions I need answered.“ You’re not willing to just ignore the doubts. You’re not willing to “fake it till you make it.” You need some things to make sense before you can move forward.
“I’m still hurt, and I need time to heal.” Someone in the church wounded you. Maybe deeply. And you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen or that it doesn’t still affect you. The hurt is real, and it needs time and space to heal.
“I’m afraid of being disappointed again.” You’ve tried coming back before, and it didn’t work out. Or you’ve seen others come back only to get hurt again. And you’re not sure you can handle another round of that.
“I don’t trust myself yet.” You know your own patterns. You know how you’ve failed before. And you’re worried that if you come back now, you’ll just end up leaving again—and proving everyone right about you.
“I’m not sure I believe enough to come back.” You have faith, but it’s fragile. You want to believe, but you’re not sure you believe enough. And you’re afraid that if you show up at church or start praying again, someone’s going to realize you don’t have it all together.
Any of those resonate?
If so, here’s the truth: All of those are valid reasons to take your time.
God Isn’t in a Rush
Here’s what we get wrong about the prodigal son story: We think the Father’s open arms are only available for a limited time. Like there’s an expiration date on grace. Like if the son had waited another week or another month or another year, maybe the Father would have given up and moved on.
But that’s not how the story works.
The Father was waiting. And watching. And ready to run.
Not just on that one day when the son happened to come home. But on every day before that. And if the son had turned back the next day instead, the Father would have been there too.
God isn’t tapping His foot, checking His watch, wondering when you’re going to get your act together. He’s not setting deadlines or issuing ultimatums.
He’s just waiting. Patiently. Persistently. Hopefully.
He can wait as long as you need to wait.
Permission to Take the Next Small Step (Not the Final One)
Here’s what I want to give you permission to do: Take the next small step without committing to the whole journey.
You don’t have to come all the way home today. You just have to take one step in that direction.
And that step might be smaller than you think:
It might be praying one honest prayer. Not a fancy one. Not a long one. Just: “God, I’m not sure about this, but I’m willing to try.”
It might be reading one chapter of Scripture. Not committing to a whole Bible reading plan. Just cracking open the book and reading a few verses to see if anything speaks to you.
It might be having one honest conversation with someone safe. Someone who’s not going to pressure you or judge you or give you a timeline. Someone who will just listen and remind you that you’re not alone.
It might be visiting a church—just once—without any commitment beyond that Sunday. Sit in the back. Leave early if you need to. But just show up and see how it feels.
It might be admitting to yourself that you want to come home, even if you’re not ready to act on that desire yet. Sometimes the first step is just naming the longing.
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t have to resolve all your doubts. You don’t have to be completely healed from your hurt.
You just have to take one small, honest step in the direction of home.
And then see what happens.
What If You Take a Step and Regret It?
Maybe you’re thinking: But what if I take a step toward God and it doesn’t go well? What if I reach out and get hurt again? What if I try and it just confirms that I really am done with all of this?
Fair questions.
Here’s what I’ll say: It’s possible. It’s possible that you take a step and it doesn’t feel the way you hoped. It’s possible that you visit a church and it’s awkward or uncomfortable or triggering. It’s possible that you pray and don’t feel anything.
But here’s what else is true: One bad experience doesn’t close the door forever.
If you try praying and it feels hollow, you can try again later. If you visit a church and it’s not the right fit, you can try a different one. If you take a step and realize you need to wait a little longer, you can step back without shame.
Taking one small step isn’t signing a contract. It’s not committing to a whole journey. It’s just… exploring. Testing the waters. Seeing what feels true.
And if it doesn’t feel right yet, that’s okay. The door is still open. The Father is still waiting. You can try again when you’re ready.
The Difference Between “Not Ready” and “Running Away”
There is a difference, though, between taking your time and running away.
Taking your time looks like: “I’m not ready to fully commit yet, but I’m still moving in the direction of home, even if slowly. I’m still open. I’m still willing. I’m just taking it one step at a time.”
Running away looks like: “I’m scared of this, so I’m going to avoid it entirely. I’m going to shut down the conversation. I’m going to tell myself I don’t need God or faith or any of this. I’m going to convince myself I’m fine on my own.”
Only you know which one you’re doing.
And if you’re honest with yourself and realize you’ve been running? That’s okay too. You can stop running anytime. You can turn around. You can take one small step back toward home.
But if you’re genuinely taking your time, wrestling with real questions, healing from real wounds, and slowly moving in the direction of home—even if it doesn’t look like progress to anyone else—then you’re exactly where you need to be.
God Can Handle Your Uncertainty
One of the biggest lies we believe is that God can’t handle our doubt, our questions, our hesitation, our “not ready yet.”
Like He’s too fragile or too impatient to deal with our process.
But look at the people God worked with in Scripture:
- Moses argued with God at the burning bush, making excuses about why he wasn’t the right guy
- Gideon asked for multiple signs before he believed God was really calling him
- Thomas needed to see Jesus’ wounds before he could believe in the resurrection
- Peter denied Jesus three times and still became the rock of the church
- Paul spent three years in the desert after his conversion, processing everything
God doesn’t rush people. He doesn’t force them to be ready before they actually are. He meets them where they are and walks with them at their pace.
He can handle your uncertainty. Your questions. Your hesitation. Your “not ready yet.”
He’s not going anywhere.
An Invitation Without Pressure
So here’s what I want to offer you today: an invitation without pressure.
If you’re not ready to come all the way home yet, that’s okay. Really.
But maybe you’re ready for one small step. One honest prayer. One tentative reach toward God. One whispered “I’m not sure, but I’m willing to try.”
That’s enough.
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t have to be completely healed. You don’t have to have all your questions answered.
You just have to be willing to take one small, honest step.
And if you’re not even ready for that yet? That’s okay too.
God will still be here tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.
The Father is watching the road. Not impatiently. Not angrily. Just… waiting. Hoping. Ready to run the moment you start walking toward home.
Even if that walk is slow. Even if it’s tentative. Even if you stop and start and second-guess yourself the whole way.
He’s not going anywhere.
And when you’re ready—whenever that is—He’ll be there.
The door is still open.
Be blessed, Wanda
Where are you in the “not ready yet” journey? What’s holding you back from taking the next step? I’d love to hear your honest thoughts in the comments—no judgment, just conversation.
