Obedience after the Blessing

09.07.26

By: Ray SaVonne

Obedience is choosing to follow God’s instructions, direction, and will—even when you don’t fully understand, don’t feel like it, or don’t know what the outcome will be. A simple way to put it is: Obedience is saying “yes” to God because you trust Him more than you trust your own feelings, preferences, or understanding.

Recently, God showed me something I had never really considered: What happens to our obedience after we receive the blessing?

Do we still say yes when we have already gotten what we prayed for? Do we still listen when there is nothing left to ask for? Do we still make room for God when the thing that once drove us to our knees has finally been placed in our hands? That question became personal for me during a 21-day prayer and fasting journey.

What Do You Need to Fast From?

During Wednesday night prayer, my pastor said something that immediately caught my attention. He essentially said, If you're unsure of what to fast from, think about the thing—or things—you spend most of your time doing, or the things you consistently put before God. Whatever it is, that's what you need to fast from.

As soon as he said it, one word came to me: Rest. It was almost immediate.

At the time, I had been working at my company, Conpasity, for about six months. I was also in the interview process for a promotion, and if I'm being completely honest, I had allowed work to consume far more than the 40 hours I was actually being paid to work.

Emails, phone calls, slack messages, text messages… Things that "couldn't wait." Things that probably could. Work had slowly become one of the places where I was spending most of my time, attention, and energy. So I decided my fast would look different than simply giving up a particular food. I would fast from TV and social media, and I would also establish boundaries around work. My new goal was simple:

Close the laptop at 4:30 p.m. No excuses. Sounds easy, right? It was not, haha!

The Hardest Part of the Fast

The first couple of weeks were hard. I was getting off work earlier, but I wasn't necessarily honoring the 4:30 p.m. boundary. There was always another email. Another message. Another task. Another reason why staying online just a little longer seemed reasonable. I had spent so much time operating in a constant state of availability that actually stepping away felt uncomfortable. But somewhere around the third week, something began to shift. It wasn't super dramatic. There wasn't some huge moment where the heavens opened and everything changed. It was subtle. I just started feeling this overwhelming sense of peace. And suddenly, I didn't feel the same urgency to respond to everything. The email could wait. The Slack message could wait. The phone call could wait. The text could wait. It can wait. That phrase became so clear to me. And I realized that God wasn't just asking me to stop working at 4:30. He was teaching me how to rest. He was reminding me that I am not God. The world will continue spinning if I don't answer every message immediately. My job will survive if I log off. And more importantly, my worth was never tied to how much I could produce. God was teaching me to trust Him with the things I thought required my constant attention. He's got it. I wasn't created to work without rest. Even Jesus rested. So why did I think I could operate as though everything depended on me?

Then Came the Blessing

Throughout those 21 days, I was consistently going to church on Wednesdays and Sundays. I was praying, fasting, learning how to surrender, and learning how to rest. And then… I got the promotion. The very thing I had been praying and believing God for had happened. I had received the blessing. And then another Wednesday night came around. Except this time, I was tired. I had worked all day, and after work I wanted to relax. I wanted to stay home. And honestly? I didn't feel like going to church. So I started making my case:

"God, I'm tired."

"I don't feel well."

"I've been going every Wednesday."

"I just want to stay home tonight."

And then, ever so gently, I heard the Holy Spirit say: "Are you going to stop being obedient now that you've received your blessing?"

When I say I got up so fas!! Because the answer was “no.”

The Blessing Wasn't the End

That moment convicted me because I realized something: I had been so focused on obedience while I was waiting for the blessing that I hadn't considered what obedience would look like after I received it.

Before the promotion, I was praying for God to open the door. After the promotion, God was asking me if I would still follow Him through it. Before the blessing, I was saying, "God, whatever You want." After the blessing, He was asking, "Do you still mean that?" That's the part we don't always talk about. We celebrate answered prayers, open doors, the new job, the relationship, the opportunity, the breakthrough, the healing, the provision. Don’t get me wrong, we should celebrate. But sometimes the blessing itself can become a test. Not because God is trying to take it away, but because He wants to know whether we still value the Giver now that we've received the gift.

Obedience Is an Ongoing Exchange

Obedience isn't a transaction.

It's not:

"God, I'll do this, and You give me that."

"I'll pray until You answer me, and then we're good."

"I'll fast until the breakthrough comes, and then I can go back to doing whatever I want."

Obedience is relationship. It's partnership. It's saying, "God, I trust You with the waiting, and I trust You with the receiving."

I trust You before the door opens.

I trust You after it opens.

I trust You when I don't understand.

I trust You when everything finally makes sense.

I trust You when I'm asking.

And I trust You when I'm celebrating.

Because the goal was never just to get the blessing. The goal was always to know God more deeply through the process.

Don't Stop at the Blessing

Maybe you're currently praying for something. Maybe you're fasting. Maybe you're waiting for God to answer a prayer you've been carrying for months—or even years. Keep going. Keep obeying. Keep listening. But when the answer comes, don't forget the One who answered. And if God has already given you what you prayed for, don't let the blessing become the place where your obedience ends. Go deeper. Ask Him: "God, what does obedience look like now?" Because sometimes the next level of obedience isn't about receiving something. Sometimes it's about stewarding what you've already received. Maybe the blessing is the new job. But obedience is learning how to honor God with your time. Maybe the blessing is the relationship. But obedience is learning how to love that person in a way that honors God. Maybe the blessing is financial provision. But obedience is learning how to steward it faithfully. Maybe the blessing is the open door. But obedience is asking God how He wants you to walk through it. The blessing changes. The relationship doesn't.

Whether in the wilderness or walking in abundance. Whether waiting or celebrating, asking or receiving. God never asks us to enter into a temporary relationship with Him. He’s invited us into something eternal. He is faithful enough to hear ua when we’re praying for the blessing, and He is worthy of our obedience once the blessing arrives.

So here’s to obedience built on trust and eternity!

xo,

The Kléi