The Discernment Diaries: Permission to Wait

This year’s Advent theme at our church—“All the Earth Is Waiting”—has been speaking to me in ways I didn’t expect. I didn’t choose the theme but somehow God has been using it to get my attention in a deeply personal way.

It has shown up in conversations with friends who didn’t know what I was wrestling with. It has shown up in Scripture passages I wasn’t intentionally searching for. It has shown up in the quiet places of prayer where God tends to whisper rather than shout.

The message I keep hearing is simple but uncomfortable: You have permission to wait.

I’ve been sensing God stirring new things, revealing little pieces of direction, offering glimpses of what might be ahead. And my instinct is to take those glimpses and run—start building, start planning, start moving.

But every time I try to sprint forward, I feel God gently slowing me down: “Ask for My timing. Don’t rush what I’m still shaping.”

Waiting, I’m learning, isn’t about doing nothing.

It isn’t passivity.

It isn’t weakness.

It isn’t a lack of faith.

Waiting is worship.

It is trusting the God who sees the whole story.

It is surrendering not just the outcome but the timeline.

It is acknowledging that clarity without timing is only half obedience.

Even when God has already revealed part of His plan, waiting is the sacred work that keeps me aligned with His pace, not my own. And that’s harder than I want to admit. It stretches me. It humbles me. It asks me to release control again and again.

But Advent keeps reminding me that waiting has always been part of how God forms His people.

“All the earth is waiting”—and this year, I am too.

Waiting for confirmation.

Waiting for peace.

Waiting for the right moment to step into what God has hinted at.

If you’re in a similar season, here’s the permission you may not have given yourself:

You are allowed to wait—even when you have pieces of the picture.

Even when it feels like you should be moving already.

Even when waiting feels like the longest act of faith you’ve ever done.

You can ask God not just what He wants for you, but when. Because timing is part of calling. And timing is part of trust.

So I’m choosing to wait.

To breathe.

To listen closely.

To let waiting become worship, not anxiety.

Because the God who planted the desire is also the God who will reveal the right moment to walk it out.

And until then—I have permission to wait. And maybe you do too.