What No One Tells You About Waiting Seasons
I just moved for the second time in six months. I’ll probably be moving again within the next three months. Currently, the majority of my belongings are waiting for me in a storage unit while I figure out what home and stability mean in this season.
This is not the put-together, steady, predictable future that I anticipated. This is not the season that I would have chosen for myself. And yet, I actually love it.
Don’t get me wrong—there were plenty of tears the weekend that I put all of my furniture and over half of my wardrobe into storage, unsure when I’ll be back for it. I lamented the loss of independence and control that came from a shift in housing that I did not want. With every change comes grief, as well as the anticipation of newness.
I love getting excited about the future, and seasons of waiting provide endless opportunities to dream about what comes next. Will I finally have a more permanent space to call home? Will my relationship status finally change? Will I get to start building towards the stable future I’ve always dreamed of?
On my best days, I feel hopeful that good things are coming, and it makes the waiting feel more bearable. Other days, fear that the answer to these questions will be no or not yet, tempts me to feel hopeless and even distraught. I feel stuck, and everything in me squirms at the realization that I’m not guaranteed a yes to my longings anytime soon, if at all.
If you relate to the icky squirm that the word “wait” invokes, you’re not alone.
Maybe your response to waiting looks more like anger or bursts of motivation where you grasp for anything you can control that will move you closer to your ideal. Maybe you distract yourself and remain busy to avoid remembering the unknowns which you are waiting to see resolved.
If you relate to the fear and anxiety that an unknown future brings, you’re not alone.
It’s tempting to believe that I’m the only one waiting, while everyone else is receiving the good gifts now. I’m guilty of resenting periods of waiting, frustratedly and eagerly seeking the next season, only to get there and find that now I’m simply waiting for something else.
What if, instead of trying to escape seasons of waiting, we learn to embrace them? What if all of life is a waiting season, meant to transform us?
I’ve learned to love seasons of waiting because I’m not alone in them. Waiting well is the spiritual superpower that all the heroes of the faith model. When I hold the weight of unknowns, I join with believers throughout scripture who have waited on the Lord: Hannah who wept on the temple steps for a son, the Israelites who wandered in the desert longing for a home, and Noah who was trapped waiting for flood rains to come to an end.
If God continually calls his children to wait, then surely there is divine purpose in our waiting.
Waiting is not easy. It usually involves disappointment, unmet expectations, and many restless, weary days where we find ourselves wandering, weeping, and trapped in the storms of life. Waiting often brings us to the end of ourselves and forces us to let go of our expectations. But the GIFT of waiting is that God meets us right where we are.
God is not in a hurry to get us to the next season. He is interested in slowing us down and letting us experience his presence: “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). He holds the answers to our questions and is “a very present help in times of trouble” (Psalm 46:1). We can trust that when we truly need an answer and a breakthrough, God will provide (though never in the way or timing we imagine!).
If God consistently meets his children in the middle of our waiting, then surely there is divine provision in our waiting.
This morning I sat down to pray in the small bedroom that I currently call home, and found myself overflowing with gratitude. Last week I felt God’s comfort as I grieved change and unknowns. Today I felt God’s peace and assurance that I am exactly where I need to be. This season is not what I would have chosen for myself, but I am finding beauty and goodness here.
Where will I be living a month from now? I have no idea! Who will I be a month from now? Lord willing, a more content, joyful, and confident version of myself—not because of a change in circumstances, but because of daily dependence on God in my waiting.
I don’t know what you’re waiting for in this season, but I know that God is with you in whatever you are enduring. You are not alone, and you are not behind; this season is purposeful. As you wait, will you move towards anger and resentment, or towards hope and peace?
Waiting is like spiritual heavy-lifting: it’s a painful process that produces incredible strength and reward. Embrace your season of waiting for the challenge and the gift that it is, and remember God’s promise to you:
Fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand (Isaiah 41:10).
Friends, ultimately all of our waiting will end. Until then, we can rejoice that Jesus, Immanuel, is with us now, and is coming again. Jesus is the one in whom we find our hope, stability, confidence, and home. Praise God that he can be found right here, in the middle of the waiting.