Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of waiting. And if I’m being honest, I am not good at it.
I am someone who, selfishly, wants what I want when I want it (Lord, help me). Patience does not come naturally to me. I’ve also learned that when you ask God to help you grow in a certain area, He often answers by placing you in situations that stretch that very thing you asked Him for.
This year stretched me deeply in the area of waiting—because nearly everything that happened in my life was completely out of my control. All I could do was wait.
I’ve shared parts of my pregnancy journey in previous blogs and on social media, but to summarize: early on, I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum, and it has stayed with me through my entire pregnancy. Weekly hospital visits for IV infusions became routine, often involving multiple painful attempts to find a viable vein due to severe dehydration. Along with that came overwhelming medical bills (thankfully, much of it was covered by insurance).
On top of that, we faced what felt like a series of unsettling medical reports concerning both my health and our daughter’s. I was diagnosed with a circumvallate placenta and placenta previa—both of which, by God’s grace, later resolved. We were told our daughter had a thickened nuchal fold and a suspected ventricular septal defect in her heart. This led to more ultrasounds, more monitoring, more specialists, and visits to multiple hospitals.
In the middle of all of it, there was nothing I could do but pray and wait.
Beyond pregnancy, there were other areas of our lives this year that were heavy, uncertain, and also required waiting.
I have never before been in a position where waiting on the Lord was my only option. I am naturally a problem solver—a fixer. Give me a challenge, and I will come up with several solutions. But God removed every illusion of control from my hands and gently, firmly taught me how to wait.
Now, as we enter the Christmas season—with Christmas just days away—I’ve been reflecting on waiting through the lens of Advent: the long wait for our promised Messiah. For centuries, dating all the way back to Adam and Eve, God’s people lived with a promise of a coming Savior. They waited without knowing when fulfillment would come.
Scripture is filled with stories of waiting:
- Abraham and Sarah waited roughly 25 years for the promise of a child.
- Joseph waited about 13 years as he endured betrayal, injustice, and imprisonment before God’s dream was fulfilled.
- David waited nearly 15 years between being anointed king and actually taking the throne.
- Hannah waited many painful years to conceive a child.
- Simeon and Anna waited their entire lives to see the Messiah.
- The Israelites waited roughly 400 years for deliverance from slavery.
And here we are today—still waiting. Waiting for the return of Jesus, when we will be fully reunited with our Father, and all suffering will finally be no more.
In every one of these stories, waiting was accompanied by hardship: trials upon trials, injustice upon injustice, and often no clear end in sight. Yet within the waiting, something sacred was happening. God was refining, shaping, and forming His people to look more like Him.
Even now, I am waiting—this time for the arrival of my daughter. She could arrive any day, though her due date is still a few weeks away. I long to hold her in my arms, but I also know that if she had come earlier, it would have been too soon. She wouldn’t have been ready. So I wait, trusting that God will bring her when the time is right.
Waiting is hard—especially when what you’re waiting for is something you deeply desire. I didn’t always wait well this year (thank God for mercies that are new every morning). But as I look back, I can see clearly now: God was at work in the waiting.
The waiting refined me.
It softened me.
It reshaped my trust.
The wait wasn’t worthless—it was worthwhile.
In many ways, it now feels necessary.
If you find yourself in a season of waiting—waiting for healing, provision, clarity, breakthrough, or fulfillment—know this: you are not forgotten. God is not absent in the waiting. He is present, attentive, and at work, even when nothing seems to be changing.
If you need prayer, encouragement, or simply a reminder that God sees you, I invite you to pause with me. Sit with the Lord. Bring Him your frustration, your hope, and your questions. Waiting does not mean doing nothing—it means trusting the One who holds time itself. My prayer for you is that you would find grace for today, strength for tomorrow, and peace in knowing that God’s timing is always purposeful. May you discover that waiting, though painful, can also be holy ground.
With Love,
Shamiya
