A Gentle Reminder That God’s Delays Aren’t God’s Denials

God, when the waiting feels endless, remind me that this season has purpose.

Because there are days when the silence feels heavier than the prayer itself — when I wonder if anything is moving, if anything is changing, if any of this waiting is leading somewhere good. It is easy to look at stillness and assume it means nothing is happening, but deep down I know that is never how you work. You move quietly. You build slowly. You prepare me in ways I don’t recognize until much later down the line.

So when my heart grows impatient, remind me that purpose doesn’t always look like progress. Sometimes it looks like strengthening what has been broken for years. Sometimes it looks like healing what I didn’t know was wounded. Sometimes it looks like rest, like reset, like release. 

Waiting is not wasted when you are in it, God. 

Help me to trust in what I cannot yet see — the alignment happening beneath the surface, the doors you are shaping, the timing you are protecting. Help me to believe that the delay is not denial, and that the quiet is not distance. You are working even when it feels like nothing is moving at all. You are always there.

God, meet me in the middle of the waiting. Settle my spirit. Steady my hope. Remind me that this season isn’t empty or pointless — it is preparation. One day I will look back and see that you were writing purpose into every moment, even the ones that felt still, or slow, or uncertain.

Until then, whisper it to my heart again:

This season has a purpose.

And you are not alone in it.

Amen.