Have you ever been in a spot where you’ve prayed—like, really prayed—and it feels like God just isn’t showing up? Maybe you’re in that place right now, stuck in the waiting, wondering if He even notices. It’s rough, right? Especially when you know, He could step in and fix things, but for some reason, He hasn’t… yet.

That’s exactly where Mary and Martha found themselves in the story of Lazarus. Their brother was sick—really sick—and they knew Jesus had the power to heal him. They’d seen Him do it before. So, they sent word, fully confident He’d come through. But here’s the kicker—Jesus didn’t show up right away. He waited. And while He waited, Lazarus died.

You can almost hear the frustration in their voices when they finally see Him: “Lord, if You had been here, my brother wouldn’t have died.” Translation? “Where were You, Jesus?”

We’ve all asked that question at some point. Maybe not out loud, but deep down, in those quiet moments when things start to unravel. “God, where are You? Why aren’t You doing anything?”

Mary and Martha weren’t just upset—they were devastated. Their brother was gone. Maybe you’ve felt that way, watching something you’ve prayed for slip through your fingers. It’s a tough place to be. But here’s the thing—Jesus didn’t get mad at them for being frustrated. He didn’t rebuke them for their questions. Instead, He stepped into their grief and gave them a promise.

Jesus looked at Mary and said, “Your brother will rise again.” Now, Mary thought He was talking about the future resurrection—you know, that big, final day. She was like, “Yeah, I know, in the resurrection at the last day.” But then Jesus dropped the bombshell: “I am the resurrection and the life.”

Let that sink in. Jesus wasn’t just saying He could raise people from the dead—He was saying He is the resurrection. Life itself. So when we’re waiting for God to move, we’re not waiting for some event to happen—we’re waiting for Him. And here’s the kicker: He’s never late.

So, Jesus heads to the tomb. Lazarus has been dead for four days at this point, and everyone’s thinking it’s too late. But Jesus doesn’t work on our timeline. What we see as “too late” isn’t an obstacle for Him.

He tells them to roll away the stone, and even though Martha’s worried it’s going to stink (because, well, four days in the grave), Jesus knows what’s coming next. He calls out, “Lazarus, come out!” And just like that, Lazarus walks out of the tomb—alive. What seemed impossible wasn’t impossible for God.

The story of Lazarus teaches us that waiting doesn’t mean God is doing nothing. It’s not just sitting around hoping something will change. Waiting is trusting that God’s at work, even when we don’t see it.

Take Joseph, for example. His life was full of setbacks—betrayed by his brothers, thrown into slavery, falsely accused, stuck in prison. But Joseph’s waiting wasn’t wasted. God was positioning him for something far bigger. What looked like a string of bad luck was really God laying the groundwork for something incredible.

Waiting on God isn’t passive. It’s an active trust that He’s doing more than we can see. 

Waiting on God means shutting off the noise long enough to hear His voice. Sometimes His words are few, but they’re enough to fill the empty spaces in your soul.

It’s not about having everything figured out. It’s about realizing that what we truly need isn’t the solution—it’s God Himself.

Waiting isn’t an opportunity to panic or fill the silence with endless prayers, hoping one will hit. It’s an invitation to lean into His presence, to sit with Him in the stillness.

God has a way of turning setbacks into comebacks. What we see as dead ends, He sees as opportunities for resurrection.

Sometimes, growth looks like losing something. Pruning doesn’t feel good, but it’s what leads to fruitfulness.

Waiting on God is realizing He can do more in a moment than we can in a lifetime.

So, here’s the deal. Whatever it is you’re waiting on—whatever prayer feels unanswered or dream seems delayed—don’t lose hope. God’s not done. He’s still working, even if you can’t see it. The story doesn’t end with the waiting.

The question isn’t whether God will move. The question is, will you trust Him while you wait? He hasn’t forgotten you. He hasn’t failed you. And He won’t start now.

Where there’s death and destruction, it’s because the devil has been busy, but the story ends in life and resurrection because God has been busier.

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I’m David

Welcome to this small, quiet corner of the internet. Think of it like a coffee shop table where words, Scripture, and vinyl crackle in the background. I’m not here as someone who has it all together—just a fellow traveler pointing toward the bread of life.

What you’ll find here are fragments: poems, reflections, and essays stitched together from the ache of our brokenness and the hope of a Savior who makes us whole. It’s part journal, part prayer, part playlist for weary souls.

So linger a while. Read slowly. My prayer is that every line I write nudges you beyond me and toward the One who created you—and still whispers grace into all our restless hearts.

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