For the Season of Waiting

Dear Friend,

I know the season you are in. The one where you have prayed, applied, planted, and knocked — and the answer is simply… not yet. Waiting is one of the heaviest things a heart is ever asked to carry, because it looks like nothing is happening while everything in you is straining forward.

But I want to offer you a different picture. In winter, an orchard looks dead. Bare branches, grey sky, no evidence of fruit. Yet underground, the roots are pushing deeper — doing the invisible work that will hold the weight of every harvest to come. Winter is not the absence of growth. It is the privacy of it.

Your waiting is not a rejection. It is not proof that you were forgotten. Some answers are delayed because they are being prepared; some because you are. And some doors stay closed for reasons you will one day thank God for, on a road you cannot yet see.

So wait — but wait like the watchman, not like the prisoner. Keep your lamp lit. Keep your hands busy with today’s faithfulness. Morning has a long record of coming.