By Kimisha King
There is a kind of tired that sleep cannot fix.
It is not the tired that comes from a long day at the office or from running errands back-to-back. It is the fatigue that settles in the bones of a visionary. The exhaustion that comes from carrying something unseen. The weariness of birthing purpose.
Entrepreneurship looks glamorous from the outside. The social media posts. The ribbon cuttings. The smiling headshots. The conferences. The applause. What we do not see are the 2:00 a.m. strategy sessions with God. The quiet tears. The rejected proposals. The unanswered emails. The invoices waiting to be paid. The nights when you stare at the ceiling wondering if you misunderstood the assignment.
There is pressure in purpose.
Pressure to perform.
Pressure to produce.
Pressure to prove.
Pressure to become.
And if you are honest, sometimes the weight of the vision feels heavier than your current capacity to carry it.
You know what God said. You wrote it down. You prayed over it. You felt it in your spirit so clearly. But when you look at your bank account, when you look at your grades, when you look at your stalled progress, when you look at the delays, the gap between the promise and the present reality can feel unbearable.
How do you reconcile divine promise with visible lack?
How do you hold onto prophecy when circumstances mock you?
This is the in-between season, the place where many quietly consider quitting.
It is the season where the woman studying for her master’s degree feels overwhelmed by deadlines and self-doubt. It is the law student questioning whether she is intelligent enough to pass the bar. It is the medical student staring at textbooks thick as bricks, wondering if she can endure another year. It is the entrepreneur watching others “blow up” while her own growth feels painfully slow.
It is the woman who has been tarrying for years.
Years of sowing.
Years of serving.
Years of building.
Years of believing.
And still, nothing looks like what she saw in prayer.
Fatigue sets in quietly. Not always as dramatic collapse, but as subtle discouragement. The voice that whispers, “Maybe this isn’t for you.” The thought that creeps in, “What if you were wrong?” The temptation to shrink the dream to something more manageable.
But here is what no one tells you: The heaviest seasons often precede the greatest expansion.
The reason it feels overwhelming is because you are stretching beyond who you used to be. Growth is not gentle. Expansion requires pressure. Diamonds are not formed in comfort. They are formed under weight.
Sometimes the vision feels impossible because you are still becoming the woman who can sustain it.
You cannot carry a global mandate with a small mindset. You cannot manage millions with the discipline of hundreds. You cannot stand on platforms if you have not first learned to stand alone.
And so there is a refining.
A pruning.
A reshaping.
A strengthening.
The in-between is not punishment, it is preparation.
The fatigue does not mean you are failing. It may mean you are being fortified.
There will be days when you cannot see it. Days when the promise feels like a distant echo. Days when the reality in front of you contradicts the revelation inside of you. In those moments, faith becomes a choice, not a feeling.
You choose to study one more chapter.
You choose to send one more email.
You choose to revise one more proposal.
You choose to show up again.
Even when you are tired.
Especially when you are tired.
To the woman reading this who feels overwhelmed, I see you.
I see the late nights and early mornings.
I see the sacrifices you have made that no one applauded.
I see the quiet discipline.
I see the faith that you are holding onto with trembling hands.
You are not crazy for believing in what God showed you.
You are not foolish for pursuing something bigger than your current environment understands.
You are not behind.
Comparison will try to convince you that you are late. Social media will show you highlight reels and hide the process. But remember: you do not know the cost of someone else’s timeline. And you cannot measure your progress by another person’s path.
Some dreams take longer because they are larger.
Some assignments require deeper roots.
Some visions require you to become someone entirely new before they manifest.
And that takes time.
The reward is not only in the achievement, it is in the becoming.
There is something sacred about looking back and realizing you survived what almost broke you. There is a quiet confidence that comes from enduring seasons where you had no external validation. There is power in knowing that when it was just you and God, you did not walk away.
And when the breakthrough comes because it will, it will not just be about the degree. It will not just be about the business. It will not just be about the title.
It will be about the resilience you built.
The character you developed.
The faith you strengthened.
It will be about the woman you became while waiting.
Purpose is not always glamorous. Sometimes it is gritty. Sometimes it is lonely. Sometimes it is exhausting. But it is also deeply rewarding. There is nothing like the fulfillment of walking in alignment. There is nothing like seeing a seed you planted years ago begin to bloom. There is nothing like the quiet knowing that you did not quit.
So if you are studying, keep studying.
If you are building, keep building.
If you are waiting, keep trusting.
If you are overwhelmed, pause but do not abandon the call.
Take the rest you need. Seek counsel. Guard your mental health. Surround yourself with people who remind you who you are when you forget. But do not shrink the vision simply because it is heavy.
Heavy does not mean wrong.
Hard does not mean impossible.
Delayed does not mean denied.
There will come a day when you look back at this season and thank God you did not give up. There will come a moment when what once felt invisible becomes undeniable. There will come a time when the same vision that made you cry will make you rejoice.
And when that day comes, you will understand why the process had to be what it was.
Until then, breathe.
One step at a time.
One prayer at a time.
One assignment at a time.
You are stronger than you feel. You are more capable than your fear suggests. And the vision placed inside of you is not there by accident.
You can overcome this season.
You can complete that degree.
You can build that business.
You can carry that calling.
Even now, especially now, you are becoming.
And that is more powerful than you realize.
Birthing the Vision: How to carry, protect, and deliver your assignment