the thing nobody tells you about waiting on God

I want to start with something honest.

I almost didn't write this week. Not because I didn't have anything to say. Because what I had to say felt too close. Too personal. The kind of thing you think twice about putting in writing because once it's out there, it's out there.

But I've been sitting with Isaiah 40:31 for the past few days and I can't shake it. So here we go.

Most people read that verse and feel encouraged. Eagles. Strength renewed. Run and not be weary. It sounds like the waiting ends fast and you come out the other side flying.

But here's what I noticed this week. Look at the order.

Eagles first. Then running. Then walking.

That's not an ascent. That's a descent. It starts at the peak and moves downward. Eagles, then runners, then walkers. Like the longer you're in the waiting, the smaller the movement gets. Until eventually you're not soaring or running at all. You're just walking. One foot in front of the other. Barely.

And I think that's the whole point.

We treat waiting like it's the pause before the real thing starts. Like God is loading something in the background and once it's ready, life will actually begin. So we white-knuckle through the waiting season, trying to survive it, praying it ends soon, convinced that wherever we're going is better than wherever we are.

But Isaiah doesn't frame it that way at all.

He says the people who wait on God will renew their strength. Not recover it. Not get it back eventually. Renew it. Like the waiting itself is what does something to you. Like God is not just holding you in place while He builds something over there. He's doing something in you right here, in the ordinary slow walk of the season you're in.

I had a mentor tell me once that the wilderness seasons in Scripture were never punishments. They were classrooms. Moses didn't wander for forty years because he failed. He wandered because forty years was how long it took to become someone who could lead a nation. Joseph didn't sit in prison because God forgot him. He sat there because prison was where the character got built that the palace would later require.

The waiting is the work.

If you're in a season right now where you're not soaring or running but just walking, barely, one day at a time, I want to say something to you directly.

That counts. What you're doing counts.

Showing up to pray when prayer feels like talking to a wall. Reading Scripture when it doesn't land the way it used to. Being faithful in the small things when the big things feel out of reach. Every single one of those small, unglamorous, invisible acts of faithfulness is building something in you that God is going to use.

You don't have to feel it working to trust that it is.

If you're in a waiting season right now, try this. Get something small and write it down. One thing God has done in your life that you know was Him. It doesn't have to be dramatic. It could be a conversation that came at the right moment. A bill that got paid in a way you can't fully explain. A peace you felt when you had no reason to feel it.

Write it down and put it somewhere you'll see it.

Not because God needs reminding. Because you do. Because the enemy of faith isn't doubt. It's forgetting. And the people who keep going through the long waiting seasons are almost always the people who have learned to keep a record of God's faithfulness.

Psalm 77:11 says it this way. I will remember the deeds of the Lord. Yes, I will remember your wonders of old.

Remember. That's an act of faith too.

That's it for this week. If something in here resonated, reply and tell me. I read every single one.

And if you're in a waiting season right now, I'm in your corner. Keep walking.

Issac
Kingdom Signals