In the Meantime

Waiting rooms are hard places to live.

Waiting for the diagnosis. For the job offer. For the prodigal to come home. For the prayer you have prayed a hundred times to finally be answered. You are told to be patient, but nobody tells you what to do with your hands, or your heart, while you wait.

That in-between space has a name. It is the meantime. And it might be holding more than you think.

The meantime is not empty

We tend to see waiting as wasted time, a pause between the parts of life that count. But some of the most important work in a life happens precisely there.

Joseph spent years in a prison before he stood in a palace. David was anointed king and then went back to the fields. Seeds spend a whole season underground, looking like nothing, before anything breaks the surface.

The meantime is not empty. It is where roots grow.

What waiting can build

Waiting has a way of revealing what we have been leaning on. When the answer does not come quickly, our faith either deepens or it shows us where it was thin. Both are gifts.

Waiting also builds endurance, the quiet strength that keeps showing up without applause. And it teaches us to find joy that is not conditional on the next thing arriving.

Four ways to live well in the meantime

1. Name what you are waiting for. Write it down honestly. Unspoken waiting turns into low, constant anxiety. Named waiting can be prayed over and carried.

2. Tend what is in front of you. You may not control the outcome, but you can care for your body, your relationships and your work today. Faithfulness in small things is never wasted.

3. Keep a record. One page a day: what you noticed, what you are grateful for, where you saw a glimpse of grace. When the answer comes, you will have a map of how you were carried.

4. Let yourself be honest with God. The Psalms are full of “How long?” Lament is not a lack of faith. It is faith that refuses to stop talking.

You are being prepared

Here is the hope I hold onto: the waiting is not a sign that you have been forgotten. Very often, it is a sign that you are being prepared for something you could not yet carry.

So breathe. Tend your roots. Live this day well. The meantime matters, and so do you.