Do you ever feel like waiting on God is the hardest spiritual discipline there is? You’ve prayed. You’ve done what you know to do. And now… nothing. Just the slow, uncomfortable middle where the answer hasn’t come yet.
We treat waiting like it’s empty
So often we act like waiting is dead time — a pause button on our lives until the “real” thing happens. But Scripture tells a different story. Some of the most formative seasons for people in the Bible happened in the waiting: Joseph in the pit and the prison before the palace, Israel in the wilderness before the promised land, Mary carrying a promise for nine long months before she ever held it. The waiting wasn’t the delay before the story. It was part of the story.
What’s actually happening in the wait
I think waiting does something in us that instant answers never could. It grows patience we didn’t know we needed. It strips away the illusion that we’re in control. It teaches us to trust God’s character even when we can’t see His plan. None of that happens in the moment of receiving — it happens in the space before it, the space we’re usually just trying to rush through. This is exactly the kind of listening I dig into in Still, Small Voice — because hearing God often isn’t a lightning bolt. It’s a whisper you learn to recognize slowly, over time, in the waiting.
Why we rush the wait
If I’m honest, most of my own impatience with God hasn’t been about the outcome — it’s been about the discomfort of not knowing. Uncertainty feels unsafe, so we scramble to end it as fast as possible: forcing a decision before it’s clear, chasing a sign instead of sitting still, filling the silence with noise so we don’t have to feel the not-knowing. But rushing the wait usually just costs us the very thing God was trying to grow in us during it. The uncomfortable middle isn’t a malfunction in the plan — it’s often where the plan is quietly doing its deepest work.
How to wait well, not just wait
Waiting well doesn’t mean waiting passively. It means staying faithful in the small, ordinary things while you wait for the big thing — showing up, praying, obeying what you already know, even when the outcome is still unclear. That’s a rhythm, not a one-time decision, which is part of why I built Grace Unfolding around a full year of daily faithfulness instead of a single dramatic moment — because most of real faith is lived in the waiting, not the arriving.
A gentle word if you’re weary
If you’ve been waiting so long you’ve started to wonder if God even remembers what you asked — He does. Delayed doesn’t mean forgotten. Some of the most beautiful answers in Scripture came exactly when it looked like time had run out, not a moment before.
So if you’re in a season of waiting right now, friend — you’re not stuck. You’re not forgotten. You’re being formed.
I’d love to hear what you’re waiting on right now. Come find me on Instagram, I’ll be praying with you.
With grace,
Jena
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