4 DISTRACTIONS IN A SMALL BEGINNING SEASON

A few days ago, I kept saying this phrase over and over: “We’re in a small beginning season.” Christy and I could both feel it deep in our spirits. But as I kept repeating it, I sensed it wasn’t just about us. I felt the Lord stirring me, saying, “This is what many of My people are walking through right now.”

It’s where you have stepped into a new chapter that carries purpose and some new dreams with it, but beyond the daily “yes,” it mostly feels UNKNOWN.

It’s where you have walked through a season of closure and endings, and now you can sense NEW THINGS are either close or already happening, but it's just slow and maybe not what you have been expecting.

So, I want to share my heart with you as we start this week. If you’re in a new beginning or maybe a season where you honestly don’t even know what’s going on, I believe this word will breathe encouragement into you.

We often think of new beginnings as exciting. But sometimes, they don’t feel good. Sometimes the new beginning feels uncertain, uncomfortable, even confusing. You know something is shifting, you know something fresh is happening, but you can’t quite see the whole picture.

God’s called you to build, to pioneer, to start something new. But right now, it just feels… small. It doesn’t look glamorous. It’s you showing up every day, saying yes to God when no one sees and nothing seems to move. But let me tell you, that’s exactly how every truly great God-breathed thing begins.

When Christy and I first started our ministry, it was anything but glamorous. Officially, we launched in 2016. But really, the story began back in 2014 when we were still serving faithfully in another church, while at the same time, pioneering something God was birthing in us. It was messy, stretching, and confusing.

We faced our insecurities. We faced doubt. We questioned what we were even doing. There were days we wanted to give up every other minute. We weren’t trying to build a “ministry brand,” we were just trying to be faithful with the message God had given us.

But that’s also when the relational tension started. The misunderstandings. The moments of isolation. You know what it’s like when God shows you something ahead of your time and others can’t see it yet? It costs you deeply and is painful.

There were times we moved our “chess pieces” further down the board than others thought was wise. We looked foolish. We were misunderstood. It cost us comfort, security, and even relationships. But every time, we learned: you can’t pioneer if you’re living for the praise of man.

Because if you live by their praise, you’ll die by it.

The moment you let people’s opinions dictate what you birth, you risk losing the very thing God entrusted to you. You’ll end up forfeiting what cost you everything, the tears, the pain, the perseverance, to voices that will only snuff out the flame.

When I was seventeen, I went camping with a friend. We were out in the middle of nowhere, no stores, no people, and not even a car. It started pouring rain, and we realized we’d run out of matches. We had magnesium and flint, but everything was soaked. We knew if we didn’t get a fire going, we’d freeze through the night. So we peeled bark off trees, trying to find anything dry, crouched under the downpour, taking turns shielding the other as we struck sparks that just wouldn’t light.

Three hours later, we finally saw the first little flame catch. And I’ll never forget sitting there, soaked and shivering, thinking, “Is this ever going to happen?” And the other day, the Holy Spirit brought that memory back to me.

Because that’s exactly what a small beginning season feels like. You’re crouched over this fragile little flame God’s given you, trying to protect it, nurture it, breathe life into it while everything around you feels like it’s pouring rain. You don’t have the resources. You don’t have the help. You don’t have the clarity. And the temptation is to just give up and say, “Maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

But friend, that’s exactly where faith is forged.

I look at our life right now, planting a house of prayer here in Orange County, and it feels so much like that again. It’s small. It’s hidden. It’s fragile. And yes, it’s hard.

We’ve had people tell us, “Maybe you should just join someone else’s thing,” or “Maybe this isn’t the right time.” We’ve faced discouragement, misunderstanding, and doubt. But I can’t walk away from the call of God just because it doesn’t make sense right now. The call is too valuable to trade for comfort.

When we first started our gatherings earlier this year, I’d drive home some nights saying, “God, what am I even doing? This feels like a failure.” But then, I’d hear stories of people leaving those same meetings deeply touched, healed, and encountering God in powerful ways. And I realized I was dishonoring what God was doing because I was so focused on what I wished it looked like.

You don’t need it to be picture-perfect for it to be powerful. You just need to give your full and willing yes.

But as I was praying over this, I kept feeling the Lord press something heavy on my heart, the urgency of listening to His voice in this moment. Because what you listen to in this small beginning season will shape the direction of your destiny.

When the foundation is still being laid, the voices you allow in your ear can either build you up or break you down.

And I felt such a strong warning from the Holy Spirit, there are certain voices sent by the enemy in this season with one assignment: to crush you before you ever fully begin.

These aren’t just distractions; they’re spiritual assassins sent to choke out your faith, to smother your fire, and to convince you that what God started in you isn’t real, or isn’t worth fighting for.

So I want to expose them. The four voices that come to derail your new beginning…

THE VOICE OF THE CRITICS

This voice often sounds wise. It comes from people who sound “helpful,” but their words carry no anointing, only doubt.

They say things like, “Maybe you’re moving too fast,” or “Are you sure God really said that?” Sometimes it’s subtle, a question that plants a seed of hesitation, a tone that makes you second-guess the fire in your own spirit.

And yes, some mean well. But good intentions don’t make something God-inspired. Their caution isn’t coming from heaven; it’s coming from fear, jealousy, or unbelief, and it’s meant to throw a wet blanket over your fire.

If you listen too long, you’ll start editing your obedience to make others comfortable. You’ll start living to be understood rather than to be led by the Holy Spirit.

THE VOICE OF INSECURITY

This one doesn’t come from others; it comes from within. It’s that whisper in the quiet moments that says, “You’re not enough. You don’t have what it takes. Who do you think you are to do this?”

This voice often shows up after a step of obedience, right after you’ve said yes to God and stepped out in faith. It tries to convince you that your weakness disqualifies you from your calling.

The voice of insecurity feeds on comparison. It magnifies your lack and minimizes God’s grace. And if you entertain it, it will drain your courage, one thought at a time.

THE VOICE OF THE BAD REPORT

This is the voice that screams the loudest in the natural realm. It’s the noise of circumstances that contradict the promise.

It shows up in the bills that pile up, the opportunities that dry up, the phone calls that don’t come, and the doors that seem to slam shut. It’s the voice that says, “It’s not working. You missed it. You should quit while you can.”

But listen, that voice always shows up right before a breakthrough.

It’s designed to drown out the sound of what God is doing beneath the surface. When Elijah was praying for rain, the sky was still clear. When the disciples were rowing against the storm, Jesus was still in the boat. And when the tomb was sealed, resurrection was already on its way. The voice of bad reports wants to pull your attention from the unseen realm, from what God is doing, to the visible realm of what seems impossible.

THE VOICE OF THE SNAKE

And there’s one more voice we can’t ignore, the most sinister of all. It’s the voice of the enemy himself, the accuser, the one who slithers in like he did in the Garden, questioning the Word of God over your life: “Did God really say?”

He twists the truth. He uses your past. He tries to weaponize your mistakes to make you forget who you are.

He’ll use subtle thoughts, discouragement, and even familiar voices to echo his lies: “God’s not with you. You missed it. You’re not really called.

But this is where you rise up in your authority. You look that serpent in the eye and declare: “You’re a liar. I know what God said. I know what He promised. And I’m not backing down.”

PROPHETIC WORD

Now, let me prophesy.

I hear the Lord saying over you this week - “I AM SILENCING THE VOICES IN THIS NEW BEGINNING SEASON. The voices of the critics, the voices of insecurity, the accusations, and the bad reports, I am silencing them, says the Lord. I am lifting the weight of confusion. I am cutting through the noise. The fog is lifting, and My voice is coming clear again!”

Do not despise this small beginning. Guard the flame, pioneers. Stand your ground. Keep saying yes and remaining in swift obedience with what He tells you to do, because this new and small beginning is going to reap fruit beyond your lifetime.

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.” - Zechariah 4:10

“Then I heard a loud voice in heaven say: ‘Now have come the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God, and the authority of his Messiah. For the accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night, has been hurled down.’” - Revelation 12:10