Wait – Isaiah 40:27–31

Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)
But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah spoke to a people who were tired of waiting. Politically threatened, spiritually worn down, and emotionally exhausted, they had begun to say—out loud—that God no longer saw them. Their complaint was simple: He’s ignoring us. Isaiah’s response that I’m paraphrasing here was just as direct: Stop it.

God had not forgotten them. He was not unaware of Assyria, of empires, or of their fear. But His answer was not immediate relief—it was a call to wait with faith. Strength would come. Rescue would come. But it would come in God’s time, not theirs.

Isaiah 40 has always had a way of reordering perspective. Kings, nations, and epochs rise and fall, yet God remains eternal and untouched. What feels overwhelming to us is momentary when set against God’s timelessness. That doesn’t mean our afflictions don’t matter. God sees them. He sees us walking through them. But Scripture is clear: God values faith more than fast relief.

Faith is formed while waiting. It cannot be rushed. It cannot be manufactured. It grows only when we trust God in the space between promise and fulfillment.

That waiting is hard—especially when we want God to act decisively and immediately. Faithful endurance doesn’t come naturally. But Isaiah reminds us that weariness is not the end of the story. Those who hope in the Lord do not stay depleted forever. Strength is renewed. Perspective is restored. Movement resumes—first walking, then running, and finally soaring.

God sees. God loves. And even when He seems slow, He is never absent.


Incidentally, I recently was playing with AI, and had it make a blues song based on Isaiah 40. It isn’t my singing. It’s not my guitar. Heck, it isn’t even my lyrics. But, I think it’s pretty good. Enjoy.

Satisfied – Isaiah 55:1–11

Isaiah 55:8–9 (NIV)
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

One of the easiest things to miss in this passage is the word covenant. For the original audience, that word carried real weight. A covenant was not a vague promise or a hopeful intention. It was binding, serious, and costly. God reminds them of the covenant he made with David and then speaks forward into what he will do. This is not wishful thinking. It is God grounding his invitation in promises he has already proven faithful to keep.

At the same time, God invites his people to come to him for real fulfillment. Instead of spending their time, energy, and resources on things that do not satisfy, they are called to receive what only he can give. That invitation still feels almost too simple, and maybe even too good to be true. God’s thoughts and ways are higher than ours, beyond what we would fathom. Yet his words are not just true. They are effective. They actually accomplish what he has planned out far before we even knew, including meeting the deepest needs of his people.

What I need to do is bring my worries and needs to God instead of carrying them myself. I tend to act as if I care more about my situation than he does, when the opposite is true. God already knows, and he cares more deeply than I ever could. When things feel confusing or unresolved, I need to remember that he has not forgotten me. His plans are bigger, wiser, and steadier than mine. Even when I do not understand what he is doing, I can trust that he has it under control.