The Weight of the Wait

After Easter: A Journey to Pentecost

Let’s be honest: we hate to wait.

I don’t mean we’re mildly annoyed by it—I mean we despise it. In our culture, waiting feels like suffering. We’re surrounded by conveniences designed to eliminate delay. We microwave our meals. We track our packages down to the minute. We can Google answers to anything in three seconds or less. We’re trained to believe that fast is good, and slow is broken. "We don’t just dislike waiting—we despise it. But in God’s hands, delay is not denial—it’s design."

So when life tells us to pause—when God tells us to wait—we assume something’s wrong. We get agitated. We panic. We question ourselves. Worst of all, we start questioning God. Why hasn’t He moved yet? Why hasn’t He answered? Why is this taking so long?

But what if the waiting isn’t a mistake? "Waiting isn’t weak faith—it is faith."

What if the waiting is where God does some of His best work?

Acts 1 paints a picture we need to pay attention to. Jesus has just ascended to heaven. The disciples have seen the risen Christ with their own eyes. They’ve heard His final words, words that carried enormous weight: “You will be My witnesses… to the ends of the earth.” And then—He’s gone. No detailed plan. No schedule. Just one instruction: “Wait in Jerusalem for the promise of the Father.”

Can you imagine that? Jesus drops the greatest mission in history into their laps, and then says, “Now don’t do anything yet. Just wait.” Let’s not romanticize this. That must’ve been maddening. They were fired up, probably buzzing with purpose—and yet they were told to stay still. No preaching, no travel, no miracles. Just wait. It’s like handing someone the keys to a race car, pointing them to the track, and saying, “Don’t drive. Just sit there with the engine running.” But instead of giving in to restlessness or trying to manufacture their own version of progress, the disciples did something powerful: they gathered together, they prayed, and they waited in faith.

They didn’t see waiting as punishment. They saw it as preparation. Waiting is not the enemy of purpose. It’s the engine of preparation. We love the spotlight moments—the miracles, the breakthroughs, the answers. But God often builds His people in the shadows, when it feels like nothing is moving. You know why? Because waiting tests your heart. It exposes your impatience. It forces you to ask, Do I really trust God, or do I just trust His timing when it matches mine?

God won’t bless what your pride is still managing. Think of it this way: waiting is like the weight room. It’s not glamorous, it’s not fast, and most people avoid it. But it’s where strength is built. If you skip the weight room, you show up weak when it’s time to fight.The disciples waited for ten days in that upper room. Ten days of praying, repenting, wrestling, and preparing. And when the Spirit came at Pentecost, they were ready—not because they were strong on their own, but because the waiting had humbled them and unified them.

So let me ask you a hard but honest question: What are you doing with your waiting? Are you just wasting time? Complaining? Checking your spiritual watch, hoping God hurries up? Or are you letting this be a season of growth, of seeking, of surrender? Today, we’re going to talk about how God works in the waiting. Not after it. Not around it. In it. In God’s kingdom, waiting is not wasted. It is woven into His plan—on purpose, for a purpose. The breakthrough isn’t delayed because God is cruel—it’s delayed because you’re not ready.

Waiting Is an Act of Faith

“They all joined together constantly in prayer…” – Acts 1:14

Let’s say it plainly: waiting feels like doing nothing. And in a culture obsessed with speed, efficiency, and productivity, that’s a hard pill to swallow. We’ve been conditioned to believe that if something isn’t happening fast, it’s probably not happening at all. But God doesn’t operate on our timelines—or our insecurities. In His kingdom, waiting is not passive—it’s active trust.

When Jesus ascended, the disciples didn’t sit around twiddling their thumbs. They didn’t say, “Well, I guess we’ll just kill time until the Spirit shows up.” No—they gathered together, and they prayed. Constantly. Faithfully. Desperately. They sought God while they waited on God. That’s the difference between worldly waiting and spiritual waiting. They could have scattered. They could’ve filled the silence with busyness. Peter could’ve gone back to fishing. Thomas could’ve gone back to doubting. But they didn’t. They stayed. They trusted. They prayed. They waited—not with frustration, but with expectation. That’s faith. Not just believing God exists—but believing He’s working even when you don’t see movement.

The Apostle Paul says in Galatians 6:9: “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Some of us are giving up too soon—not because God failed to move, but because we refused to wait long enough to see what He was growing.

While you’re waiting on God to move, God may be waiting on you to surrender. Waiting reveals what’s real in us. It exposes our impatience, our pride, our control issues. But more than that—it gives God space to do the deep, invisible work we often try to skip. The painful kind. The transformative kind. The holy kind.

We see this over and over in Scripture:

Abraham waited decades for a promised son—and learned that God’s promises aren’t rushed, but they never fail (Hebrews 6:15). Joseph waited in chains and darkness, but God used prison to shape him into the kind of man who could save a nation (Genesis 50:20). David was anointed as king but spent years on the run. Why? Because God was forming the heart of a shepherd before giving him the crown (Psalm 27:14).

In every one of these stories, the waiting wasn’t wasted. It was preparation. Training. Furnace and fire. Because if God’s going to trust you with something big, He’s going to prepare you with something hard. So let me ask you: What if the thing you're resenting right now—the delay, the silence, the stuck place—is the very ground where God is building something eternal in you?

Don’t rush what God is using to root you. Waiting isn’t weak faith. It is faith.

Waiting Prepares Us for What’s Next

“Lord, You know everyone’s heart. Show us which of these two You have chosen.” – Acts 1:24. Waiting isn’t just about not moving—it’s about getting ready to move. That’s what the disciples understood. They weren’t just counting the days until the Holy Spirit showed up like it was some cosmic delivery window. They used the waiting to prepare themselves—spiritually, practically, and missionally—for what was coming. In Acts 1, we see them take a bold, deliberate step: they replaced Judas. That wasn’t just a committee decision—it was a holy act of preparation. They prayed earnestly. They sought God’s will. And they filled the gap.

And here's what stands out: they didn’t make that decision based on preference, convenience, or popularity. They didn’t vote. They didn’t campaign. They didn’t scroll through resumes. They prayed. “Lord, You know everyone’s heart. Show us…” (Acts 1:24). That’s a dangerous prayer—because it hands the decision back to God, not us.

Let’s be real: most of us don’t pray like that when we’re waiting. We pray, “God, hurry up,” or “God, do it this way.” But the disciples teach us a deeper faith—the kind that says, “God, prepare us. Purify us. Position us.” They weren’t twiddling their thumbs—they were tightening the net. Jesus had given them a mission, and they were getting their house in order to receive the Spirit and go.

So let me ask you: How are you using your waiting? Are you wasting energy obsessing over the delay? Or are you preparing for what God is about to do? You may feel like you're stuck. But maybe you're not stuck—maybe you're being stationed. Positioned. Readied. Don’t ever be fooled into believing God doesn't delay without purpose. His pauses are never pointless. When a soldier gets orders for deployment, they don’t spend their waiting time on vacation. They train. They pack. They condition their bodies and clear their minds. They know: when the call comes, you won’t have time to prepare—so you better be ready now. Waiting is your training ground. And God is far more interested in preparing you than in preparing your moment. Stop asking, ‘Why hasn’t God moved?’ Start asking, ‘What is God forming in me?

Ask yourself this: "What is God shaping in me now so that I’ll be ready for what’s next?” Let’s be honest—most of us aren’t waiting on God nearly as much as God is waiting on us. Waiting isn’t just about God getting things ready for you. It’s about God getting you ready for things. The disciples restored the twelve so they would be complete when Pentecost came. That’s the lesson: God fills what’s empty—but only when we clear the space. Waiting is your chance to clear the space—your heart, your habits, your relationships, your trust. So don’t waste this season. Don’t scroll through it. Don’t grumble through it. Don’t get cynical. Get ready. Because when God moves, you don’t want to be scrambling to catch up. You want to be standing at attention, fully prepared, heart wide open—“Here I am, Lord. I’m ready.”

What If You’re the One God Is Preparing?

We’ve talked about how waiting is an act of faith, and how waiting prepares us for what’s next. But before we wrap this up, let me leave you with something unexpected. A twist. See, we often talk about waiting on God. But have you ever stopped to consider…

Maybe right now—God is waiting on you?

The disciples were waiting on the Holy Spirit. But God was also watching them. Watching how they responded. Watching whether they would obey, whether they would stay together, whether they would pray and prepare. Their waiting wasn’t just a delay—it was a test. A proving ground. What if your season of silence isn’t because God is late… but because you’re not ready? What if you’re asking God to move, and God is asking you to mature? What if the breakthrough you’ve been begging for is being delayed—not because God is cruel, but because He loves you too much to bless a heart that isn’t surrendered?

Let that hit.

God is not going to pour His power into a life that’s still clinging to control. He’s not going to promote you into purpose if your character can’t carry it. He’s not going to release the next chapter if you’re still bound by fear, bitterness, or pride from the last one. God loves you too much to give you what you want before you’re ready to carry it.

The waiting room is not punishment—it’s a proving ground. So here's the real question: “While you're waiting on God to act… is God waiting on you to surrender?” You want a movement? God wants obedience. You want an answer? God wants your attention. You want purpose? God wants your heart. That upper room in Acts 1 wasn't just a waiting room—it was a furnace. A place where God refined their faith, shaped their character, and knit their hearts together until they were ready to carry His power.

And when the day of Pentecost came, they were ready. They weren’t scrambling. They weren’t panicking. They were prepared, unified, prayed up, and wide open. So maybe this is your upper room moment. Maybe God is calling you to stop complaining about the delay—and start surrendering to the preparation. To stop asking, “Why won’t God move?” and start asking, “What is God forming in me?” Because He’s not just preparing something for you—He’s preparing you for something. And when He’s done… it will be more than worth the wait.

But only if you’re ready.

So… are you?