The Grinding Season: Embracing Spiritual Growth
The grinding season polishes our rough edges like rushing water smooths sediments and stones. Photo credit: Leo Rivas Unsplash
The Late Edition: Navigating the Grinding Season
This edition arrives later than usual, as I find myself in the midst of the grinding season—a time when it feels as though there is never enough time to accomplish everything. In this season, I rest in God’s hands, breathe deeper, sleep better, slow down, and move intentionally, trusting the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Grinding is one of the eleven spiritual seasons we experience. I recently discussed the other ten seasons at a women’s fellowship retreat and will share more about these cyclical journeys in upcoming issues of Heart Matters.
Understanding the Grinding Season
The grinding season emerges regardless of how meticulously you’ve planned your days, weeks, or months—something inevitably interrupts. It is marked by God’s abundance, responding to His call, and encountering surprises and distractions along the way. Friction arises, a constant churn of challenging emotions rubbing against the ego. Just as sediment, gravel, and boulders are worn down by rushing water, the grinding season polishes our rough edges. It strips away superficial layers, false security, and unhealthy habits.
This season has polished my spiritual maturity and refined my character. Personally, it followed a period of pruning—letting go of certain things.
Moments of Release
I recognized this release in April while traveling to Destin, Florida for a vacation with my mom. March was filled with events and deadlines, none of which surprised me as I had planned the month meticulously. On Easter Monday, instead of writing my bimonthly Substack newsletter as planned (driven more by ego than necessity), I slept during the flight and took a walk through the airport during my layover.
After arriving and sharing a Whataburger dinner with my mom and uncle, I sat at the dining room table, laptop open. Although my mother was speaking to me, I realized I was neither listening nor writing—I was empty. I closed the laptop, joined my mom on the couch, and we spent the evening laughing together. Being present became the most precious gift of time.
Rest & Renewal
The following weeks in April brought more rest and Club Pilates training—a 500-hour certification I began last September, always feeling behind. May arrived quickly, and I took on two extra preaching assignments, underestimating the time needed to revise an essay. Have you ever underestimated a project’s timeline?
During this season, I embodied both Martha and Mary: I showed up, completed tasks, and met deadlines, but also lingered in stillness, rest, and silence like Mary. I spent 20 minutes each day reading Psalms, letting the Spirit of God speak through words, images, phrases, lamentations, prayers, and praise.
Humility & Letting Go
Psalm 119:164 humbled me: “Seven times every day I praise You because of Your right rulings” (The VOICE). Had I praised the Lord that many times a day? When I stopped and looked to God, I saw that His way was the right way. Setting aside my ego—even when failing to complete this newsletter by June 6, the first Friday—helped me release the perfectionist tendencies within.
My internal critic often chastised me: “Angela, you should have prepped earlier, stayed up later, given yourself more time, or not accepted that preaching assignment.” Letting go is not easy.
Theologian and mystic Barbara Holmes (1943-2024) suggests that letting go is like a tug of war. We cling to our stories, lifestyles, and beliefs until they are forcibly removed, yet letting go is necessary for transformation. Ultimately, we are clutching at nothing.
Just as someone desperately squeezes dry sand to prevent it from slipping away, we grip tighter to our expectations, roles, and status. The tighter we hold, the faster the grains slip through our fingers, leaving us exhausted by holding onto a reality that has already faded.
Releasing What’s No Longer Needed
In the grinding season, it becomes necessary to release what is no longer useful in the present moment—or what simply isn’t meant for this season. For example, though I aimed to read 52 books this year, I’ve only finished 12 so far. It’s just not the right time for this goal. Alicia Keys’s autobiography, which I’ve had since April, received a June library reminder for its return. I read up to page 34 and enjoyed it, see me on the deck. Nope, not finished, I’m traveling and didn’t bring it with me. Yet, I’m moving forward with hope: stopped at B&N purchased two novels Clay Cane’s Burn Down the Master’s House and Tayari Jones’s Kin.
Embrace the Grinding Season
The grinding season is not a sign that something has gone wrong. Rather, it signals that you are fully alive—called, committed, and carried by grace.
If you find yourself in this season, I invite you to loosen your grip on the timeline, the checklist, and the version of yourself that believes she must have it all together. Release the sand. Let the grains fall where they may. The Holy Spirit never misses a deadline.
Wherever you are in your season—grinding, pruning, or somewhere in between—trust that you are exactly where you need to be. God’s got it, and God’s got you.
