Living and Waiting

Isaiah 40:31But those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

This scripture is set before us for reflection. Isaiah addresses a traumatized community in captivity, facing political upheaval and spiritual exhaustion. The prophet calls the people to repent and return to the Lord in obedience as they await God's decisive action: the coming of the Messiah and the day of the Lord, both events entirely beyond human control.

Its core message is that God's identity as Creator uniquely qualifies Him as their Redeemer. Yet the exiles would struggle to believe this promise, especially the claim that Yahweh would use the pagan King Cyrus, an outsider entirely outside the covenant, a man who worshiped foreign gods and had no knowledge of Israel's God, to accomplish His purpose.

The recent events surrounding the Fourth of July commemoration reveal the same struggle in a different key. Those who understand God's word and history are grappling with the tension between the lived reality of many people and the aspirational language of the founding documents, which promise equality, fairness, and justice for all but have not yet fully realized those promises.

That tension is the reality of waiting for God's response. Waiting on the Lord is more than patience. The Hebrew concept (qavah) conveys a longing, tensile hope, stretched taut like a cord waiting to be pulled tight. It is not passive inactivity but a posture with both active and passive dimensions, demanding holy courage and patient endurance. That posture is sustained by a healthy trust in and understanding of God's character and sovereignty.

That trust is built through relationships and the lived experiences God provides. The moments we find ourselves in now are given to us by God to deepen that trust. He has promised that He will not allow us to be tested beyond what we can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13); that He will never leave us nor forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6, Hebrews 13:5); that nothing can separate us from His love (Romans 8:38–39); and that He causes all things to work together for the good of those who are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). This waiting operates on multiple levels: persistent, persevering prayer and abiding dependence on God, extending to seeking divine guidance in difficult decisions and trusting that God is sovereign over every circumstance and works it for our good.

The fruit of that tension and trust is the renewal God has promised. Those who wait upon the Lord gain renewed strength, mounting up with wings like eagles, running without weariness, and walking without fainting. Those who endure the waiting periods God ordains are blessed, for He acts on their behalf. Waiting produces deliverance and salvation, and God shows sensitivity and concern for those who wait, inclining toward them and hearing their cries.

Yet waiting requires specific dispositions: freedom from disappointment and shame, consistency and continual dependence, composure and patient calm. The call to wait is a call to persevere in faith, refusing to abandon integrity or to rely on human strength. It is a discipline that anchors believers amid life's difficulties and prepares them to receive God's promised blessing: strength, renewed determination, and focus that come from leaning into the Lord.

Paul reminds us not to grow weary in well-doing (Galatians 6:9), yet these times are heavy with weariness and the fatigue of a constant stream of discouraging news. We can learn much from the prophets and Christian leaders who embraced the fight to correct the trajectory of inequality and injustice. The moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice. That bending requires a renewed people willing to stand and shine as we wait for God to fulfill His promises.

This was not new territory for a people who have waited before. Out of bondage, without a name attached, our foreparents raised a spiritual that still lives in Black churches today: I will trust in the Lord, I will trust in the Lord, I will trust in the Lord till I die. No composer signed it, nor does any single voice own it. It rose the way faith often does under pressure, communally and anonymously, passed hand to hand and voice to voice until it became an inheritance. That is our testimony, too. We did not invent the waiting, and we will not be the last to practice it. Till I die, I will trust in the Lord.