Waiting on God: Finding Hope in Stillness
In the quiet spaces between prayers and answers, God is painting something beautiful—BibleVibrance.com.
Dear Heart of Faith, the kitchen window frames the morning—a cardinal perched on a snow-dusted branch, motionless, as if waiting for spring itself. You watch, coffee warming your palms, and something inside you whispers: This is me. I am waiting, too.
For the job offer. For the test results. For the relationship to heal. For the door to open. Waiting on God can feel like winter stretching endlessly, can’t it? Yet Psalm 27:13–14 offers a different vision—one where patience in trials becomes a sacred trust, where faith during waiting transforms into strength.
Call to God : Lord, what are You creating in me during this season of stillness, and how can I see Your hand at work even now?
Light of the Day : I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord! (Psalm 27:13–14 ESV)
Discover God’s Plan :
The cardinal doesn’t move. Minutes pass. You glance at your phone—still no email, no news, no change. The silence feels heavier than the snow outside. But watch the bird more closely. Its chest rises and falls with each breath. Its eyes scan the horizon. It is not frozen; it is present . This is the picture of waiting on God that David paints in Psalm 27—not paralyzed by fear but alive with expectation, believing in God’s goodness even before it arrives.
David wrote these words while enemies surrounded him, yet he declared, “I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord.” Not if —but I shall. That tiny word carries the weight of hopeful waiting. He anchored his soul not in what he could see but in Who he knew. Trusting God’s timing meant David chose courage over despair, strength over surrender. And he invites you into that same posture: Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage.
Picture yourself standing at the ocean’s edge at dawn. The waves roll in rhythmically, and you watch for the sun to break the horizon. You cannot rush it. You cannot will it to appear faster. But you know—deep in your bones—that it will rise. This is faith during waiting. It’s the certainty that God’s timing is perfect, even when your heart aches for now.
Oswald Chambers writes in My Utmost for His Highest , “God’s silences are His answers” (p. 201). When heaven feels quiet, it doesn’t mean God has forgotten you. It means He is working in ways your eyes cannot yet perceive. The cardinal on the branch waits for the right moment to fly. You, dear one, are learning to wait for God’s right moment—and in the waiting, your faith is being refined like gold in fire.
Think of the woman who plants a garden in early spring. She presses seeds into dark soil, waters them faithfully, and then… nothing. For days, the ground looks unchanged. But beneath the surface, roots are forming, life is stirring. Patience in trials is trusting the unseen work of God. As L.B. Cowman writes in Streams in the Desert , “God is never in a hurry, but He is always on time” (p. 93). Your waiting season is not wasted time—it’s holy ground where spiritual endurance is cultivated.
You may be waiting for a prodigal child to come home, and each day feels like a battle between hope and heartbreak. You may be waiting for provision, and the bills on your counter seem to mock your prayers. You may be waiting for healing—physical or emotional—and the pain lingers like winter’s chill. But here is the truth the cardinal teaches: waiting doesn’t mean doing nothing. It means staying present, staying faithful, staying anchored in God’s promises.
The snow begins to melt in the sunlight. Drip by drip, the branch lightens. The cardinal ruffles its feathers, shifts its weight. Something is changing, even if slowly. This is the rhythm of God’s plan for waiting—gradual, gentle, but unstoppable. Sarah Young reminds us in Jesus Calling , “Waiting on Me means directing your focus to Me in hopeful anticipation” (p. 127). Your waiting is not passive resignation; it’s active trust. It’s choosing to see God’s goodness already at work, even when the full picture hasn’t yet emerged.
Consider the story of Elizabeth in Luke 1. For decades, she waited for a child, enduring whispers and shame in a culture that equated barrenness with God’s disfavor. Yet when her season of waiting ended, she didn’t just receive a son—she received John the Baptist, the forerunner of the Messiah. Her long wait wasn’t punishment; it was preparation for a miracle that would change history. Your waiting, too, holds purpose you cannot yet see. Trusting God’s timing means believing that what He is preparing for you is worth every moment of delay.
The cardinal suddenly takes flight, a flash of red against white snow. It didn’t fly because the waiting was over; it flew because the time was right. You will know that moment, too. In The Pursuit of God , A.W. Tozer writes, “God never hurries. There are no deadlines against which He must work” (p. 88). His pace is perfect, His vision complete. While you wait, you are not standing still—you are being transformed, strengthened, made ready for what’s ahead.
So what does hopeful waiting look like today? It’s thanking God for what you cannot yet see. It’s choosing courage when fear whispers lies. It’s declaring with David, “I believe I shall see His goodness”—not because your circumstances promise it, but because His character guarantees it. Finding thankfulness in the waiting season means recognizing God’s faithfulness in past delays. Remember when He provided just in time? When He opened a door you didn’t know existed? When He carried you through what felt impossible? He hasn’t changed. His goodness is still coming. It’s already on its way.
The kitchen window now shows a world transformed by light. The snow sparkles. The cardinal’s branch bends gently in the breeze. And you realize: waiting on God is not about enduring emptiness—it’s about recognizing fullness in His presence. He is with you now, in this very moment, holding your aching heart, whispering His promises over your restless soul.
Do This Today : Find something in nature—a budding flower, a rising sun, a bird in flight—and let it remind you of God’s perfect timing. Write down one area where you’re waiting on God, then beneath it, write: “I believe I shall see His goodness.” Speak it aloud as a declaration of faith during waiting. Let this simple act anchor your heart in hopeful waiting.
Pray His Promise : Father, I believe I will see Your goodness in the land of the living. Give me patience in trials, strength to wait, and courage to trust Your perfect timing. Thank You for working even now. Amen.
The cardinal flew at just the right moment—and so will you, when God’s timing unfolds at BibleVibrance.com.
What are you waiting for? Share your story—let’s encourage one another in faith.
Footnotes :
📚 Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest , p. 201
📚 L.B. Cowman, Streams in the Desert , p. 93
📚 Sarah Young, Jesus Calling , p. 127
📚 A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God , p. 88
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