GOD IS STILL IN THE WAITING

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This article is for those who are already tired of waiting. May it be waiting for the return of the Lord or the long overdue fulfilment of a prayer.

There is a sacred ache that comes with longing for something only God can give. It’s the quiet desperation of a prayer that has lingered on your lips for months, or even years. It’s the silence that answers your cries, a silence that can feel so heavy, so empty, so much like abandonment. In the waiting, the world keeps spinning, but a part of you feels frozen in place, holding your breath for a breakthrough that has not yet come.

If that is where you are today, I pray this timeless promise from the prophet Isaiah would wrap around your soul like a warm embrace. In Isaiah 40:31, our loving Lord says,

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

This is not a hollow promise for the strong; it is a divine lifeline for the weary. It is God’s declaration that He is still at work, especially when you can’t see or feel a thing.

To our restless hearts, waiting feels like a delay. It feels like a cosmic pause button has been pressed on our lives, while everyone else moves forward. It feels like silence. But can I gently tell you that to God, waiting is preparation?

He is not ignoring you. The silence you perceive is not a sign of His absence, but often a sign of His deep, intricate work. He is building something in you before He gives something to you. Some blessings are not delayed; they are being lovingly and meticulously developed in the hidden place of your heart. Some strengths can only be forged in the furnace of patience. The prophet Habakkuk was told in a vision:

“For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come.” (Habakkuk 2:3).

Please hear this: God’s delays are not His denials. They are the proving grounds of your faith and the sacred cradle of miracles that are yet unseen.

Isaiah’s promise is breathtaking. He doesn’t say you will simply endure the waiting or collapse under its weight. He says you will “mount up with wings as eagles.”

Think about the majesty of an eagle. An eagle doesn’t ascend by frantically flapping its wings and exhausting itself. It soars. And it cannot soar until it has caught the right wind—a thermal current that it did not create, but has learned to rest upon. The eagle, in its wisdom, waits for the wind.

While you are waiting, feeling grounded and restless, God is building your wings. He is strengthening your heart, deepening your patience, and clarifying your vision. He is teaching you to recognize the movement of His Spirit. Sometimes, in the agony of our waiting, we are begging to take off, while God in His love is whispering, “Don’t rush the takeoff, my child. I am sending the wind. Trust Me.”

The promise in Isaiah 40:31 is layered with grace. It covers every season of our journey. Sometimes we soar. Sometimes we run. And then there are the times we can only walk.

Some seasons don’t feel like soaring. There is no majestic uplift, no breathtaking view from above. Some seasons don’t even feel like running; there is no exhilarating momentum, no finish line in sight. Some seasons are just walking—one weary, deliberate, faith-filled step at a time.

But look at the beauty of the promise: “…they shall walk, and not faint.” God sees your walk. He knows the effort it takes just to put one foot in front of the other. And He promises that if you keep walking in faith, you will not faint. If you keep trusting, you will not fall apart. If you just keep holding on to His hand, He will hold you up. Your quiet, un-celebrated walk is a profound act of worship, and it is moving you forward.

Perhaps the most tender truth for the waiting heart is this: you are not alone in the waiting room. God is with you in the long, quiet hallway, not just at the door of the breakthrough. His presence is not a prize waiting at the end of your trial; it is your comfort in the midst of it.

David, a man who knew the pain of waiting, wrote in Psalm 40:1,

“I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry.”

The Lord inclined—He leaned in close. He is leaning in to you right now. He hears your late-night prayers whispered into a tear-stained pillow. He sees your silent tears that no one else knows about. And He is working in the invisible places, orchestrating details you cannot yet see, even when the door of your promise hasn’t opened yet.

I know you may be waiting. Waiting for a healing that feels so far off. Waiting for a prodigal child to find their way home. Waiting for a financial breakthrough that seems impossible. Waiting for an answer to long nights of prayer.

But God is not absent. He is active. And your waiting is not empty—it is pregnant with divine purpose.

So I invite you, weary friend, to come to Him. Surrender your life, with all its anxieties and demands, into His loving hands. Come and receive fresh strength for the journey, not because you feel it, but because He promised it. And let this be the declaration of your heart today:

“Lord, even if I don’t see it yet, I will trust You in the waiting.”

Your waiting is holy. Your waiting is worship. And I promise you, your waiting is not in vain.