Learning to Move with God When Life Feels Still

Waiting is never easy.
Whether it’s waiting for healing, breakthrough, restoration, or direction—the silent seasons can feel heavy. Lonely. Confusing. It’s in those in-between moments that we’re most tempted to doubt what God said or wonder if He’s still moving at all.

But what if the waiting isn’t punishment—what if it’s preparation?
What if waiting isn’t inactivity—but intimacy?

The verse that has sustained me time and again is Isaiah 40:31:
“But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.”

At first glance, “waiting on the Lord” sounds like passive endurance—like sitting with arms crossed, staring at the clock. But the Hebrew word used here is “qavah” (קָוָה), and it means so much more.

Qavah doesn’t mean sitting still and doing nothing. It literally means “to bind together by twisting,” like strands of rope. It paints the image of being intertwined with God—so tightly connected to Him that you move when He moves, stop when He stops, and go only where He leads.

This revelation changed everything for me.

God showed me that waiting isn’t about wasting time—it’s about weaving my heart into His.
It’s in the waiting that I offer Him my gifts. I give Him my voice, my worship, my trust. I bring Him the little I have in my hands, and He turns it into something more.

Waiting has taught me how to rest in what He’s doing behind the scenes, even when I don’t see it.
It’s taught me that obedience in the stillness is just as powerful as obedience in motion.

In the waiting, I’ve learned to:
   •   Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord.
   •   Stay when He says stay.
   •   Be quiet when He whispers, “Peace, be still.”
   •   Move when His Spirit stirs.

I’ve learned that waiting is not punishment—it’s the sacred space where trust is forged and identity is refined. It’s where I become more like Him—not because of what He’s doing for me, but because of how close I am to Him.

So if you’re in a waiting season, don’t despise it.
Don’t disconnect.
Don’t rush ahead.

Instead, get intertwined. Let your life be so wrapped around His that you can sense even the slightest shift of His leading. That is where strength is renewed. That is where wings begin to grow. That is where you learn how to soar.

What God showed me in the waiting changed my life.
And I believe He’s speaking to you too—right here, right now.

Wait well. Wait close. Wait with purpose.

With faith in the in-between,
Janet Swanson