Plan to Work in the Rain: Why Waiting for Clarity Will Cost You
Ecclesiastes 11:4 says, “He that observes the wind will not sow; and he that regards the clouds shall not reap.” Many people wake up, see the emotional or spiritual rain, and start speaking negativity before the day begins. But not the sower. Not the builder. A farmer sees rain and knows growth is coming. They plan to work in the rain. That’s their advantage.
You're not competing with others—you're battling the atmosphere, the mood, the delay. And clouds don’t speak for God. Stop waiting for conditions to tell you when to move. Move.
Every time you allow negativity to take the mic, you demote your own calling. When I see the rain, I ask God: where’s the syllabus? Is this a 12-week grind? Or an 8-week season? But either way—I’m enrolled. Are you?
Joseph had to work in the rain. Betrayed, enslaved, falsely accused—yet he kept showing up. He planted where he stood. He moved through cloud cover. And one day, he woke up in the palace.
It will be worth it when the reaping season comes. When you feel the wind, dig. When the sky turns dark, plant. The rain doesn’t ruin your story—it reveals who you really are.
We can’t listen to the weather and hear God at the same time. You either trust God or you don’t. Waiting does not mean stopping. Just because you lack clarity doesn’t mean you cancel the assignment.
Once you learn how to start well, quitting stops feeling normal. That’s the goal.
You’re not stuck. You’re staring.
Here are 3 signs you’re cloud-staring:
1. You wait more than you pray
2. You have more notes than action
3. You call hesitation “discernment” but have no results
Stop watching the forecast. Work the field.
This is your Monday. Make it happen. Schedule something. Execute it today. The people who make it happen don’t need details. They need direction.
Join our Patreon for a behind-the-scenes look at my Monday rhythm. We don’t just move—we plant while it’s pouring. Because people are counting on us. Your movement unlocks theirs.
If you’re waiting for the storm to pass before you sow, you’ve already missed your window.