When God Says Wait

There are some prayers that feel easy to pray. And then there are the ones that ache. The ones you whisper quietly to God because saying them out loud somehow makes the longing feel even heavier. For me, one of those prayers has been the desire to become a mother. If you’ve ever walked through infertility, you know it isn’t just a medical journey. It’s emotional. Spiritual. Deeply personal. It’s test results, medications, hormones, calendars. There were times I joked that I needed a personal assistant to keep me on track with what is actually happening. It’s hope—rising and falling in cycles. And for us, it included IVF.

People talk about IVF like it’s just science. But for us, it was faith. It was courage. It was surrender. And when it didn’t work… it was heartbreak. Not because God isn’t good. Not because I don’t believe He can. But because waiting hurts. Waiting is hard—especially as women. We’ve all heard it... "the clock is ticking." There’s this invisible deadline culture whispers to us—that we’re running out of time, and in a way they're right and in a way they're wrong. And if I’m honest, the longer I wait… the more I start to feel a strange shift... I start settling into the what is, instead of holding onto the what could be. The longer the wait, the more I get comfortable with it being just the two of us—my husband and me. And that’s a whole different kind of grief. Because it’s not just about waiting anymore... it’s about wondering if the dream is slowly fading.

But sometimes I catch glimpses of something else in the waiting. When we lived in our old home, we had a bedroom that we intentionally left empty.We kept saying one day it would become the nursery. Every time I walked past that room, it felt like a quiet reminder of the prayer we were still waiting on. When we moved almost a year ago, I remember saying very clearly, “absolutely not. We are doing something with every room.” No more empty spaces just waiting for a miracle. Because sometimes the waiting can start to feel like a hallway you’re stuck standing in. But looking back now, I can see something I didn’t notice before. The wait hasn’t been empty. In this season we’ve become more financially stable. We both have good jobs. My husband has reconciled with his mom. Even our dogs, who have been part of every chapter of our marriage, are getting older now… probably in their final seasons with us. And sometimes I wonder if God knew we needed this time. Time to grow. Time to heal relationships. Time to build a life that’s steadier than it was before.

And that’s when I’m reminded of something Scripture shows us over and over again... God doesn’t operate on our clock. God doesn’t operate on our clock. He isn’t limited by time, biology, or statistics. He’s the God who gave Sarah a child when everyone else said it was impossible. Now God, if you're reading this... please, I do not want to be a Sarah! Haha. He’s the God who saw Hannah’s tears and didn’t shame her for them. He’s the God who keeps every promise—even when it takes longer than we thought.

Isaiah 64:4 says, "for since the world began, no ear has heard and no eye has seen a God like you,

who works for those who wait for him!" Wait for Him. Not wait for the perfect moment. Not wait for the outcome. Wait for Him. Because delayed does not mean denied. Ya'll waiting is HARD for me, I am not a patient person. I've waited five years, I've even looked up to the skies and waved and said under my breath on a walk... "hello God, I'm still waiting..." Not sure if he heard it, because I'm still waiting, but hopefully I gave him a good laugh, because I said that in complete sarcasm and humor.

Even when the door hasn’t opened yet. Even when the test is negative, month after month, year after year. Even when the miracle hasn’t come in the way you imagined. Delayed doesn’t mean forgotten. It means God is still writing. And friend, sometimes the hardest, holiest thing we can do is sit in the middle of an unfinished story and still say, “God, I trust You anyway.”

SHE Walks in Faith

• What is one area in your life where you’ve mistaken delay for denial?

• In what ways has your faith grown during the wait?

• What would it look like for you to trust God without a timeline?

🩷 Prayer

Lord, You know how hard this wait has been. You know the tears, the prayers, the quiet surrender. Help me not to confuse delay with denial. Help me not to resent the wait, but to rest in it. And when my heart starts to settle into “maybe not,” remind me that You are still good—even when the story is still being written. Amen.