Introduction

Some of us walked in today with a wait in our bones. We’ve stood in waiting rooms, stared at silent phones, counted ceiling tiles in the midnight hours. We’ve waited for a call back from a doctor, a prodigal to come home, a door to open, a cloud to move. Life can feel like a long line at the DMV of the soul, and the clock seems stuck. But here is a whisper for weary hearts: waiting with God is never wasted. He holds the calendar and He holds you.

Have you ever wondered if the pause means you’ve been passed over? If the silence signals absence? If your strength will hold until morning? The prophet Isaiah stands up in the middle of our Mondays and speaks a promise with wings. He talks to tired people. He looks at those whose strength has sagged and says there is a lift that comes from looking up. There is fresh wind for faint hearts.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones once said, “Faith is the refusal to panic.” Panic drains strength; faith draws strength. And Isaiah invites us to plant our hope, not in the headlines, not in our own horsepower, but in the Lord who never wearies, never wobbles, never wavers. He gives us language for long nights and a picture for long roads: eagles, running, walking—each step sustained by heaven.

Here is the word we need to hear, in full, as God gave it through His prophet:

Isaiah 40:31 (KJV) — But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

Can you see it? Wings where there were only weights. Running where there was only trudging. Walking steady where there was only wobbling. This is not a pep talk; this is a promise. When we wait on the Lord, He braids His strength into our weakness. He supplies what we cannot supply ourselves. He turns pause into power, patience into propulsion, stillness into stamina.

So, friend, take a deep breath. You are not behind. You are being held. You are seen by the Savior who meets you in the meantime. In this message, we will remember that waiting is not losing, we will learn to stay until God moves, and we will be encouraged to run and not faint. Your Father has fresh strength for you today—strength for wings, strength for the run, strength for the walk ahead.

Opening Prayer: Father, we come to You tired in places we can’t always name. You know our wait and our weariness. We ask You to lift our eyes and steady our hearts. Teach us to wait on You with confidence. Pour out renewing strength—the kind that mounts us up, the kind that keeps us running, the kind that helps us walk without giving up. Quiet every anxious thought. Speak through Your Word and by Your Spirit. We trust You to meet us, to strengthen us, and to lead us. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Waiting is not losing

Waiting can feel quiet. It can feel slow. It can feel like nothing is happening. Yet Scripture shows that God does deep work in the quiet and slow. He forms hearts when the noise dies down. He clears our sight when the rush eases. He teaches trust when we cannot push the clock. In these hidden hours, we learn to lean. We learn to listen. We learn to stay near.

Think about how time with God changes the inside of a person. When we rush, we react. When we sit with Him, we receive. The heart softens. Pride settles down. Fears shrink to size. You begin to notice small gifts you used to miss. You begin to want what He wants, not only what you want. That change is real fruit. That change is strength.

God also orders steps while we wait. You may not see a door open yet, yet He shapes the path. He moves people. He aligns details. He shields you from turns that would harm you. He adds wisdom to your decisions. He slows you when hurry would have hurt you. He speeds you when you need to move. His timing carries mercy.

Waiting grows wisdom. It sifts motives. It shows what we love, and where we look for help. It turns prayer from words into breath. It teaches us to ask again without shame. It keeps us close to the Shepherd. It trains our ears to notice His nudge. A quiet heart can hear a quiet whisper.

There is also rest in this space. Rest is not the same as quitting. Rest restores. Rest clears the fog. Rest builds a base you can stand on when the pace picks up. God cares about your pace. He cares about your health. He cares about the weight you carry inside.

Hope also matures here. Hope is not a hunch. Hope is attachment to a faithful God. When hope matures, you are steadier. You are less tossed by headlines or gossip. You find courage to take the next right step. You become a shelter for others. Your words carry weight because they rise from time with Him.

Now look at the promise in Isaiah. It speaks to those who wait with God in view. It links waiting to strength. It links trust to power for real life. It paints a picture you can hold in your mind when your hands feel empty.

To wait on the Lord is to stay turned toward Him with steady expectation. It is not idle. It is active attention. Think of a cord pulled tight. The strands hold because they are drawn together. That is what hope does to the heart. It ties your need to His name. It ties your plans to His wisdom. It ties your fears to His care. You keep coming back in prayer. You keep opening His Word. You keep your thoughts near His promises. You let His character set the tone for your day. This is how a person waits in faith. Eyes up. Hands open. Heart ready. Not frozen. Not frantic. Present to God in the present moment.

God promises fresh strength for those who wait this way. The word speaks of being made new again, like an exchange. Your thin strength is not the final source. There is a trade going on. You bring your limits. He supplies what you lack. He gives staying power to tired bodies. He gives clear thought to foggy minds. He gives courage to anxious feelings. This is not a surge that fades by noon. This is steady supply. Like lungs that keep filling. Like a spring that keeps flowing. You may wake up still tired, yet you find enough grace to love, to work, to forgive, to keep going. And tomorrow, there will be more. God is not short on power. He does not run on fumes. He knows how to refill you.

The promise also speaks of rising like a strong bird on warm air. Watch how that bird lifts. There is lift under the wings. There is skill, yes, yet there is also unseen help. The air holds. The bird leans into that hold. Prayer is like that. So is worship. So is trust. God gives currents that carry you higher than your own effort can take you. He gives perspective you did not have on the ground. You begin to see farther. You begin to see from above, not only from within the mess. You are still in the same story, yet your posture changes. Fear does not sit in the pilot’s seat. God’s updrafts come through Scripture, through wise counsel, through quiet moments where His peace settles on you. You learn to spread your wings into what He provides.

Then the promise moves to the ground. It speaks of speed and also of simple steps. There are days when you must run. Deadlines press. Crises come. Needs pile up. God meets those days with energy that holds. You find endurance you did not plan. Your legs keep going. Your heart stays steady. There are also long stretches that feel plain. Dishes. Emails. Caregiving. Meetings. Small, faithful steps. God is there too. He keeps your feet under you. He keeps you from fainting when life is ordinary and long. He fits His strength to the pace in front of you. Sprint strength for sprint days. Walking strength for walking days. Always enough for the next step. Always enough to finish what He has put on your plate today.

Stay until God moves

Stay until God moves looks like holding the line Isaiah sets in front of us ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO