There is a kind of silence that isn't empty. It took me a long time to believe that.
When you have been given a promise and then nothing seems to move, the waiting can feel like proof that you misheard. So you replay the moment. You test it. You wonder whether you should have done something different.
Waiting is not the same as wasting
I used to treat the in-between as a hallway, something to hurry through on the way to the real thing. Slowly I've started to see it as a room. Things happen in it. Roots grow. Character forms. Prayers get more honest because we run out of polished ones.
The promise was never only about the arrival. It was also about who you would become on the way.
Three small practices for the gap
- Write down what you are still sure of.
- Name one thing God has already done. Be specific.
- Do the next small, faithful thing, even if it feels unrelated.
None of these will speed up the timeline. They will, though, keep your heart soft while you wait. That turns out to matter more than I expected.