There’s a stillness that settles in the soul when you realise you’re not in control. I’ve found myself there more times than I’d care to admit — waiting rooms, long nights, unanswered prayers. It’s uncomfortable. Agonising, even. But in that liminal space between the asking and the receiving, God is doing something deep.

Waiting on the Lord is not passive; it’s an act of fierce trust. It says, "I believe You are working, even when I see nothing at all." That kind of waiting shapes us. It humbles us, slows us down, and teaches us to breathe differently. To live not by what we see, but by Who we know.

Patience, I’ve come to learn, is not the absence of frustration. It’s the presence of faith. A steady flame in the soul that whispers, "He is faithful." With each pause, each delay, God chisels our character. He deepens our roots. He enlarges our capacity to carry what’s coming.

So if you’re in a season of waiting, beloved, you’re not forgotten. You’re not sidelined. You’re being formed — quietly, tenderly, purposefully. His timing is not just good; it’s perfect. And when the day comes, you’ll see the beauty that only slow-growing things can bring.