Waiting rooms test our faith — especially at the GP or some such place. Sitting, fidgeting, scrolling, sighing. Yet God’s waiting room isn’t wasted time; it’s training time. Like a caterpillar in a cocoon, we’re stretched so we can soar. Can you imagine the endurance of Mary and Joseph, their respective families, their friends… What was it Mary said again? Something about an angel called Gabriel?
Poetic whisper:
In stillness I find, not delay but design,
His timing is mercy, His rhythm divine.
Quiet waiting? Easier said than done when the Wi-Fi lags. But silence allows God’s voice to rise above the noise. Sometimes He whispers through pauses more powerfully than through miracles. I admit to failing the divine patience test many times! But I am trying, and learning to see what it is in me that gives rise to such a short fuse – and what I see is ugly and petty, and God says, “There it is! Give it to me!”
Poetic whisper:
When words grow thin and noise takes flight,
I hear Your peace in the hush of night.
Remember staying up on Christmas Eve as a kid? Eyes wide open, convinced you’d hear reindeer hooves? That’s the kind of anticipation God invites — not weary waiting, but watchful wonder. I used to get under the blanket (I know, luxury right?), and shimmy down to the end of the bed and toes the base with my toes. It was magical, knowing my dad was downstairs rigging string, tape and chairs in an impenetrable structure to prevent me and my brothers from entering the living room. It didn’t always stop us, and I suspect my dad knew that!
Poetic whisper:
The night feels long, the dawn far away,
But joy comes leaping with the day.
Habakkuk knew God’s clock doesn’t tick like ours. We want Amazon Prime answers; God delivers eternal plans. We want fast-food, God gives eternal food. The delay is not denial — it’s divine detail work. Waiting for God in the age of the instant, an age where hurry is a virtue, On-Demand everywhere, we must resist the temptation – and that’s exactly what it is – to squeeze God into this mold.
Poetic whisper:
Patience is faith that’s learned to breathe
Between the prayer and what God weaves.
Like farmers waiting for rain, we plant faith and water it with prayer. There’s no spiritual microwave — just the slow, rich flavour of grace growing deep roots. This is why Hosea tells us to “Sow for yourselves righteousness and reap the fruits of steadfast love and break up your fallow ground; it is time to seek the Lord, that He may come and rain righteousness upon you” (Hos. 10:12).
Poetic whisper:
Sow in stillness, reap in time,
For God’s harvest is worth the climb.
Hope isn’t wishful thinking; it’s confident expectation. Like charging your phone knowing the outlet works — not maybe power will come, but it will. Con Fide literally “with faith” – so Gospel hope is not in vain, it is a gift that is given through that which it is impossible to please God: Faith.
Poetic whisper:
My socket of faith, plugged in to His grace,
Hope flows steady in this waiting place.
We often pin our hopes on job offers, packages, people, and get “out for delivery” or “out-of-order” disappointment. True hope doesn’t track shipments or failed expectations; it anchors the soul. Biblical hope is knowing beyond understanding that what God has said, promised and will do, is inevitable – the key is to realise that He hasn’t told you the dates and times for good reason. Imagine the bore you’d be if you knew that.
Poetic whisper:
Earth’s hopes shift and shake and fall,
But Heaven’s hope outlasts it all.
Ever plant something and see it sprout? That’s living hope — something growing even when buried in dirt. Resurrection is God’s ultimate “ta-da!” moment. What is God doing in you that will give rise to the truth of a living hope in the coming year?
Poetic whisper:
From broken ground, green shoots arise,
A whispered promise: death defies.
Hope is faith wearing night-vision goggles. We may not see the road ahead, but we know Who holds the map. And yet, even when we are exhausted by unrealised hope, we discover that when we look back over our life we see one set of footprints in the sand – yeah, you know the poem I mean.
Poetic whisper:
I walk through shadows, yet I know,
The dawn is nearer than it shows.
Micah wasn’t watching Netflix while he waited. Nor was he doom-scrolling on his phone. It is in the midst of chaos and the depravity of sin all around that waiting for God truly makes sense. Micah was confident despite the horrific sins of his people, God’s covenant people. “My God will hear me.” That’s hope with its sleeves rolled up, ready for prayer and promise.
Poetic whisper:
I whisper now, You answer soon,
Hope hums softly under the moon.
Receiving Christ is the ultimate unboxing moment. No batteries required, no assembly needed — just an open heart. We make a mistake to think this applies only to non-believers. It is for believers too, every day of the Christian life, receiving Jesus in faith, hope and love – is the way of Christlike transformation.
Poetic whisper:
Empty hands, open wide,
Receive the Gift the world can’t buy.
The angels’ announcement was heaven’s birth cry of joy! And the shepherds, probably smelling like sheep, were first to hear it. God sends His best news to ordinary people – and so the shepherds would see the Good Shepherd. The shepherds would see the Lamb of God. The shepherds would see. Do you see?
Poetic whisper:
Joy to the lowly fields that night,
Heaven broke in with holy light.
Some gifts come wrapped in confusion. But even in hard times, grace arrives disguised as growth. God’s gifts don’t expire or require returns. And yet, God’s gifts are not meant to be collectors items displayed in a glass cabinet! They are to be nurtured, grown, and used for ministry in Jesus name!
Poetic whisper:
When I count the gifts I see,
Even trials turn sweet to me.
Grace is like Wi-Fi: invisible, freely given, but we forget to connect and prefer to forget. Salvation isn’t earned by effort — it’s received by surrender. When did you last sing the hymn: I surrender All? Did you?
Poetic whisper:
I lay down striving, lift up my hands,
And find Your mercy understands.
Paul ran out of words trying to describe Jesus — and that’s saying something! Sometimes gratitude outgrows grammar, that’s one reason God gives the gift of speaking in tongues. The Word made flesh is even beyond human language, because God is beyond human thought and language. Everything we know is by gift and grace.
Poetic whisper:
When words fall short and silence sings,
I thank You, Lord of all good things.
God didn’t make you a night-light to hide under a lampshade. Shine, even if it’s a flicker and fireflies will glow. Even if all you see are shadows, that means there’s light somewhere. Jesus called you the light of the world (Matthew 5:14), plug into him and you can’t help but shine.
Poetic whisper:
A single spark in the dark can say,
“The Sun is coming, the Light’s on its way.”
John the Baptist basically said, “If you’ve got extras, share!” Imagine if everyone followed that, charity shops would overflow with blessings. I suppose John would say that given that he wore a camel’s hair shirt, but the principle of generosity over excess is always relevant: Generosity really winds the devil up!
Poetic whisper:
Give from your coat, your heart, your plate,
Heaven multiplies what you donate.
God’s love isn’t a souvenir to keep on a shelf. It’s more like bread, best when broken and shared fresh. The word made flesh is always fresh. Have a wonderful Christmas with friends and family, or if you are on your own, know that God is always with you.
Poetic whisper:
Love that’s stored grows stale in time,
Love that’s shared tastes pure, divine.