“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”

ECCLESIASTES 3:1 (KJV)

I t’s always somewhere between Johnson Creek and Lake Mills when my phone goes crazy. Another idea. Another concept. Another project that demanded my attention. I didn’t answer it right away. I just let it sit there, knowing it would join the list of things swirling in my mind.

Lately, it felt like ideas wouldn’t stop coming. I’d be sitting somewhere, minding my business, and suddenly a complete vision would drop into my spirit—a book, a message, a strategy—something that needed to be created, released, and shared with the world. And with every new idea came a question: Was I moving too fast?

The highway was quiet that morning. The sun was still climbing, painting the fields in soft gold. I thought about how often I’d doubted myself for producing too quickly—publishing books back-to-back, releasing content at a pace that felt almost reckless, wondering if people would think I was sacrificing quality for speed. But then I thought about my brother, a well-known artist who drops songs constantly. He doesn’t wait for permission. He doesn’t second-guess the flow. When creativity comes, he releases it. And people receive it because it’s authentic.

I passed the Pine Cone restaurant and thought about seasons. Fall doesn’t ask permission to arrive. Winter doesn’t apologize for showing up on schedule. Spring doesn’t hesitate to bloom. They come when they’re supposed to, and everything in nature responds. That’s what I’d been feeling—a season, a flow, a divine rhythm that I couldn’t control and shouldn’t resist.

When God gives you something, it’s your responsibility to get it out into the world. Not next year. Not when it’s convenient. Not when you’ve overthought it into perfection. Now. In the season He gives it to you. Because here’s the thing: seasons don’t wait. If you sit on what God gives you, your moment will pass. Someone else will say what you were supposed to say. The door He opens will close. And you’ll be left wondering why the momentum stopped.

I didn’t have time to sit around and ponder. I didn’t have time to worry about what people would think or whether they’d criticize the pace. The thing I was being inspired to do was for somebody on the other side who was waiting for it. So, I made my peace with the speed. I accepted that this season was about output, not hesitation. And I trusted that what God gave me in the flow was exactly what someone else needed in their famine.

The exit for Lake Mills came into view, and I exhaled. The ideas weren’t a burden. They were a blessing. And my job wasn’t to manage them. It was to release them.

If you’re in a season where creativity is pouring out of you, don’t slow down to please people. Don’t dim your output because others aren’t moving at your pace. Stay in your lane. Trust the flow. And get it out while you’re in the season.

What God gives you in your season is for someone else’s survival.

Keep moving forward,

Dr. Key