The Final Push

It’s June 1, and that means that in exactly one month I will be transitioning from a full-time public school employee to a full-time real estate agent.

This plan has been in the works for months now. A dream was placed on my heart several years ago. It started with part-time real estate, but with each family and each closing, God began painting a picture for something far greater than purchasing and selling homes. That dream would require much more focus and time, and moving into real estate as a full-time venture began to take place.

It was exciting and full of expectation a few months ago as the plan became a far-off reality, but here we are now in the final month of reliable income, a normal 9–5, and a job that is comfortable.

"The horizon is full of hope, but as July 1 draws nearer, I’m learning that the final push can be the most challenging."

Recently, I was talking with a dear friend who is also in her final push season. She and her husband have dreamed of having a child for several years. There were many conceptions that ended in miscarriage, and hopes were dashed again and again, but at the end of 2025 my friend felt that the Lord promised that there would be a child in 2026.

She clung to the promise, and eventually it became reality in the form of a positive pregnancy test. I have been honored to have a front-row seat as both her anticipation and belly stretch and grow. It has been a sweet season of literally seeing God’s promise take form in her womb.

But if you’ve been where she is, in the final trimester, you know the challenges that come with it:

• Discomfort

• Pain

• Sleepless nights of tossing and turning

• Emotions running high

• Energy running low

  
  

As the due date draws closer, the impact of the pregnancy grows more difficult. It’s a final push season. Throughout life, we can find ourselves in a final push season. Sometimes it’s the literal final push of giving birth to a new baby, but many times it’s the figurative final push as we are embarking on the new territory that is a dream coming into fruition.

In 1 Samuel, we find the story of Hannah. Hannah was the wife of Elkanah. Elkanah had two wives, Hannah and Peninnah. He favored Hannah, but she was barren. Peninnah, on the other hand, had numerous sons and daughters. Hannah yearned for a child of her own, and as she waited, Peninnah didn’t stand by to encourage and cheer her on. Instead, the Bible describes her actions as those of a rival, provoking and embarrassing her in her weakest season. Meanwhile, Elkanah cannot understand why his love and all the blessings he has given Hannah are not enough to account for the grief she feels in being barren.

Eventually, Hannah pours out her heart to the Lord, and Eli the priest notices her anguish. He sends her with a blessing of peace and the promise that the Lord will give her what she has asked for. I love this story and the aspects of it. Although I’m not in a season of preparing to give physical birth to a child, I am walking toward a promise. And much like Hannah, this final season, as the promise draws closer, has been the hardest.

Like Hannah, I have a rival. His name is Satan.

He is ready, at every turn, to provoke me into believing that God is not for me, that I will embarrass myself as I step out. He speaks threats of failure and the unfaithfulness of the Lord. It would have been easy for Hannah to compare herself to Peninnah and find bitterness in her barrenness.

Similarly, it is such a temptation for me to get caught up in comparison, leaning into doubtful thoughts like:

• I’m not as savvy as other agents.

• I haven’t had as much experience as other agents, so I won’t be anyone’s first choice.

Comparison leads me to a place of lack and fear. It’s a land in which I am not successful and therefore have to tuck my tail and go back to a “regular” job.

I will admit that I can often get stuck in these sorts of thoughts from the rival and choose not to move forward. I can understand the distress that Hannah exhibited as she moved toward her promise. When the provoking becomes a constant, it’s difficult to break through.

That’s where we find Hannah as she goes to the temple to pray. Her cycle of comparison and being provoked by Peninnah leads her straight to the Lord.

I love the fact that she is real and raw with God, holding nothing back. She is so distraught that Eli the priest thinks she may be drunk.

I am learning that the Lord doesn’t need us to sugarcoat our prayers. He delights in our honesty. There’s no better way to build an authentic relationship with the Creator of the Universe than putting it all on the table and letting Him help you sort it out.

It can be ugly. It can be messy. But like Hannah, you leave with the peace of God.

"The Lord doesn’t need us to sugarcoat our prayers. He delights in our honesty."

As Hannah left the temple that day, nothing in her natural circumstances was different. She was still barren. She still had Peninnah to deal with. But what she left with was peace and hope.

I’m certain that those facets carried her through her final push.

So as I look over the landscape of the next 30 days—my final push—I choose to center myself on the promises of God rather than the lies of my rival.

I recognize that this next month may have its own set of trials and challenges, but like Hannah, I will use any moments of grief as opportunities to connect with the Lord in intimacy and transparency.

Hannah’s example shows that where big dreams are being birthed, there is a cost both emotionally and physically. But we serve a God who can carry us through the push to the fruition of delivery.

And what an honor to be part of His plan.