In the Waiting

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

Lamentations 3:22–23

Waiting seasons are some of the hardest places to live. They stretch longer than we expected, test deeper than we imagined, and touch wounds we thought had already healed. Whether you’re waiting for healing, for reconciliation, for clarity, or just for the ache in your heart to ease, waiting can feel like walking through fog—you keep moving, but you can’t see where you’re going.

For years, I prayed for change that didn’t seem to come. I wanted God to move fast—to fix the pain, to open the door, to prove that He hadn’t forgotten me. But instead, He invited me to wait.

At first, I fought it. I thought waiting meant I was being punished or overlooked. But what I’ve learned is that waiting isn’t evidence of God’s absence—it’s the classroom of His faithfulness.

THE HARDEST PLACE TO TRUST

Waiting exposes what we truly believe about God. It strips away the easy answers and the tidy faith we lean on when life makes sense. When nothing is changing and the prayers hang unanswered in the air, we start to ask the hard questions: “God, do You see me? Are You still working? Do You still care?”

It’s easy to believe in God’s goodness when everything is falling into place. It’s harder when the doors stay closed, when the phone doesn’t ring, when the healing doesn’t come. But faith isn’t proven on the mountaintop—it’s refined in the waiting.

I remember crying out in one of those seasons, desperate for an answer. And in the quiet, God didn’t give me a timeline; He gave me Himself. A whisper in my spirit said, “You may not see My hand right now, but you can trust My heart.”

Sometimes the waiting is where we learn that trust isn’t a feeling—it’s a decision. It’s choosing to believe God’s character when our circumstances haven’t caught up yet.

MERCY FOR TODAY

The beauty of Lamentations 3:22–23 is found in its rhythm. God’s mercies are new every morning. Not all at once, not stored up for the month—daily. Just enough for today.

And that truth changes how we walk through seasons of delay. You don’t need enough strength for the next six months. You just need mercy for this morning. And when tomorrow comes, there will be fresh mercy waiting for you then, too.

That’s how God sustains us—one sunrise at a time.

Some mornings, His mercy looks like peace that doesn’t make sense. Other days, it looks like a friend’s text at just the right moment, or the strength to get out of bed and try again. The miracle isn’t always in the breakthrough—it’s in His steady presence as we wait.

You don’t have to figure out how everything ends. You just have to trust that He’ll meet you in the middle.

PURPOSE IN THE PAUSE

The waiting isn’t wasted. God uses it to shape our hearts, deepen our dependence, and refine our vision. What feels like delay may actually be divine preparation.

I’ve looked back on seasons that felt endless and realized later that God was building something I couldn’t see at the time—character, patience, empathy, faith. He was preparing me for promises that required a stronger foundation than I had before.

It’s easy to rush the process, to want to move from brokenness to breakthrough without passing through the middle. But there’s sacred work happening in the middle. The soil of waiting grows roots that will hold you when the winds start to blow again.

So if it feels like your life is on pause, remember—He hasn’t pressed stop. He’s developing something in you that’s worth the wait.

And one day, you’ll step into what He’s been preparing, and it will make sense. You’ll see that He never wasted a single tear, a single day, a single moment. Even in the waiting, He was faithful.

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

1. What are you waiting for God to do right now?

2. How has He shown His mercy to you in small ways lately?

3. What might He be teaching you through this waiting season?

   
   

Father God, thank You that Your mercies are new every morning. Thank You that even when I can’t see what You’re doing, You are still working behind the scenes. Help me to trust Your timing when I’m tempted to rush ahead. Teach me to rest in Your faithfulness instead of fearing the unknown. Let this waiting season become a place of worship, where I learn to depend on You more deeply than ever before. You are faithful in the pause, purposeful in the silence, and good in every delay. I choose to trust You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.