By Jennifer McPherson

This morning while I was praying, I saw something that honestly broke my heart—not just for me, but for the Body of Christ as a whole.

I saw spiritual babies.

Some were aborted before they ever had the chance to form. Others were fully born but left lying unattended. And as I looked at them, I knew exactly what they represented: the gifts, callings, assignments, ministries, dreams, and blueprints God Himself planted inside His people… the very things we were supposed to nurture, carry, and bring into maturity. Yet somewhere along the way, many of them were abandoned.

Not because God changed His mind.
Not because the seed was wrong.
But because we got discouraged.

As I sat with this, the Lord began to speak to my heart. He reminded me of the things He has conceived in us—visions, blueprints, songs, books, movements, callings—and how easily we drift from them when the process doesn’t unfold the way we imagined. We don’t walk away because we’re rebellious. Most of the time, we walk away because something felt right in the moment. We told ourselves stories like:

“Maybe I misheard.”
“It shouldn’t be this hard.”
“This other opportunity seems better.”
“I’m probably not qualified for this.”
“It’s taking too long.”

And without even realizing it, we step away from what God asked us to steward. We choose movement over maturity, distraction over devotion, momentum over faithfulness. We walk away from a spiritual pregnancy because we didn’t understand the season we were in.

Here’s what the Lord reminded me so clearly:
Bringing anything God entrusts to you into maturity requires two seasons—one that feels like movement, and one that feels like stillness.

And we love movement.
We thrive on momentum.
We like to feel like something is happening.

But when God leads us into a season of divine stillness, we often misinterpret it. Stillness feels like failure. It feels like something died. It feels like God must be shifting us somewhere else. So we walk away. Not because the word changed, but because the silence made us uncomfortable.

And in that misunderstanding, the baby gets left unattended.

What I saw in the Spirit grieved me: assignments crying out with no one to nurture them, callings starving because no one stayed long enough to feed them, foundational works that were started but never finished because the builders walked away before the walls could go up. These weren’t man-made ideas. These were God-breathed destinies—left untouched, uncovered, and unnurtured simply because someone got weary.

Heaven felt the weight of it.

And in the middle of that weight, I heard the Lord ask a simple but deeply personal question:

“If not you, then who?”

If not you, who will bring to pass what I placed inside of you?
If not you, who will nurture what I entrusted to your care?
If not you, who will protect the very thing I conceived in your spirit?

God is not looking around the room trying to find someone else.
He already chose you.

He planted it in your womb.
He breathed it into your spirit.
He aligned it with your identity and design.
He entrusted it to you because it fits you.

No one else can steward what was assigned to your life.

This word is not correction; it’s mercy.
It’s invitation. It’s realignment.

The Lord is calling many of us back to the things we left behind—those assignments we thought we weren’t ready for, the visions we thought were too big, the projects we let sit on the shelf, the ministry ideas we set aside because the timing felt off. The truth is, the baby isn’t dead. It’s simply been unattended.

And I hear the Lord saying gently but firmly:

“Return to what I placed in you. Pick it back up. Nurture it again. I have not changed My mind.”

We are in a season where God is restoring foundations. And part of that restoration requires us to go back and tend to what He originally spoke—before disappointment, before delay, before fear, before confusion. Not everything you walked away from was meant to be abandoned. Some things were meant to be carried. Protected. Fed. Raised into maturity.

This is not condemnation.
This is awakening.

The Father is saying:

“I am awakening you to what I birthed in you. Tend to the baby. What I conceived in you shall come forth.”