On Second Thought
“But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” —Isaiah 40:31
One of the most difficult forms of faith is not acting when we believe we already know what to do. Waiting feels spiritual when we are confused, weak, or obviously dependent upon God. It feels much less necessary when we are experienced, trained, competent, and confident. Yet those may be the very moments when waiting becomes most important. Isaiah warns, “Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight!” (Isaiah 5:21). The danger is not wisdom itself. The danger is wisdom that has quietly stopped listening.
Most of us have areas of life where surrender comes fairly naturally because we know we are out of our depth. When the diagnosis is uncertain, the relationship is breaking, or the circumstances are beyond our ability to manage, prayer comes quickly. Dependence feels obvious. But then there are areas where we feel qualified. We know the subject. We have done this before. We have training, experience, or a history of success. Somewhere inside, we may draw an invisible line and say, “God, I will trust You with what I cannot handle, but I can take care of this.”
That is a dangerous line.
The problem is not competence. Scripture does not praise ignorance or condemn preparation. The problem comes when ability becomes autonomy. We can become so accustomed to knowing what to do that we stop asking God whether we should do it, when we should do it, or how He wants it done.
Charles Stanley observed that part of trusting the Lord is learning to wait long enough not merely to ask for His guidance, but also to hear His answer. That distinction matters. Prayer can become little more than informing God about the decision we have already made. We speak, say “Amen,” and immediately begin executing our plan. Waiting requires something different. It creates space for God to challenge our assumptions.
Isaiah 40:28–31 speaks directly to this temptation. The prophet asks, “Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.” Before Isaiah tells us to wait, he reminds us whom we are waiting for.
God does not grow tired.
God does not overlook information.
God does not miscalculate circumstances.
“His understanding no one can fathom.”
That means waiting on God is not inactivity caused by uncertainty. It is confidence rooted in God’s superior understanding.
The Hebrew word often translated “wait” in Isaiah 40:31 is qavah. It carries the idea of waiting with expectation, hoping, or looking eagerly toward something. Biblical waiting is therefore not sitting spiritually motionless. It is active dependence. It is continuing to obey what God has already made clear while refusing to run ahead where He has not yet given direction.
Think about how easily expertise can become a substitute for prayer. A person skilled in finances may construct an excellent plan but fail to ask whether generosity should alter it. A capable parent may know how to correct a child but fail to recognize that this particular moment requires listening instead. A successful leader may understand organizational strategy but overlook a person whom efficiency would leave behind. A preacher may know how to prepare a sermon yet still need the Spirit to expose what knowledge alone cannot reveal.
Our strongest abilities can become our weakest spiritual places when they convince us we no longer need dependence.
That is why waiting can feel so uncomfortable. It reminds us that knowledge does not equal control.
We may understand markets and still experience financial loss. We may understand our profession and still face restructuring. We may understand parenting and still watch a child make painful choices. We may understand medicine and still encounter illness. Competence can prepare us to respond wisely, but it cannot guarantee outcomes.
Only God sees the whole landscape.
Isaiah 40 gives us an image that is often remembered for its beauty but sometimes missed in its sequence: those who wait upon the Lord will mount up, run, and walk. We tend to admire the eagle because soaring sounds dramatic. Yet most of life is not lived soaring. Much of discipleship is walking—ordinary, repetitive, uncelebrated faithfulness.
Perhaps that is why waiting matters so much. God is not merely preparing us for extraordinary moments. He is teaching us how to walk without fainting.
Waiting allows our confidence to move from our ability to God’s character. It transforms the prayer from “Lord, bless what I have decided” into “Lord, show me what You desire.”
That is not weakness.
It is mature faith.
On Second Thought
Here is the paradox we may not expect: sometimes the place where we are strongest is precisely where we need to wait the longest. Weakness naturally reminds us to pray; strength can convince us prayer is optional. We usually imagine spiritual danger appearing where we feel insecure, but Isaiah suggests another possibility. The danger may appear where we feel completely certain. “Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes.” The warning is not against wisdom; it is against a closed loop of wisdom in which our own judgment becomes the final authority.
Perhaps God occasionally allows delay not because He is withholding direction but because He is exposing where our confidence rests. If I become irritated because God has not approved my plan quickly enough, the problem may not be the delay. The delay may simply reveal that I never intended to surrender the plan in the first place. I wanted confirmation, not guidance.
Waiting therefore becomes a diagnostic tool of faith. It asks whether I trust God only when His answer matches my expectations or whether I trust Him enough to be redirected. It teaches me that the Lord who created the ends of the earth does not need my urgency to accomplish His purpose.
So before acting today in the area where you feel most capable, wait long enough to pray one more prayer: “Lord, is there anything about this that I am not seeing?”
Then remain quiet long enough to listen.
Sometimes faith moves mountains.
Sometimes faith runs toward the assignment.
And sometimes the greatest act of faith is refusing to move until God has finished speaking.
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