Week 1: Daily Anchors of Hope
Scripture Focus (RSV):
“But they who wait for 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
✨ Devotional Commentary
Waiting is not a weakness. It’s not laziness. It’s not failure.
It’s a kind of strength that doesn’t look strong.
It’s quiet. It’s slow. It’s hard.
Isaiah doesn’t say the strong are the ones who push through. He says the strong are the ones who wait. Not wait passively. Not wait perfectly. Just wait—with God.
For neurodivergent minds, waiting can feel unbearable. Time stretches. Thoughts race. The silence gets loud. But waiting is where God meets us. Not with answers. With presence.
💭 Personal Reflection
I’ve never been good at waiting. I live with ADHD, and my brain doesn’t like stillness. It wants movement. It wants resolution. It wants to know what’s next before the current moment is even over.
Waiting feels like being stuck in a hallway with no doors. I pace. I plan. I panic. I try to make the waiting go faster by doing more, thinking harder, praying louder. But it doesn’t work. It just makes me tired.
There was a time I was waiting for medical results. I didn’t know whether to stay or go. I didn’t know what God wanted. I didn’t know what I wanted. So I waited. But my waiting wasn’t peaceful—it was frantic. I was overthinking, feeling of dread washed over me, thinking the worst outcome. I kept asking God to speak louder, to move faster, to give me a sign I couldn’t miss.
But the sign didn’t come. The answer didn’t drop from the sky. What came instead was a slow shift. A quiet knowing. A sense that I didn’t need to rush. That maybe the waiting wasn’t about the decision—it was about me. About learning to sit with discomfort. About learning to trust God even when my brain was screaming for resolution.
Once the results were received and everything was fine, all that overthinking and dread was for nothing, but that’s how I am wired.
I started deep breathing exercises every morning. Not to solve anything. Just to relax. Just to breathe. Just to be. And in those moments, I felt God near. Not fixing. Not explaining. Just near.
That time taught me that waiting isn’t empty. It’s full of formation. It’s where God stretches us, steadies us, strengthens us. Not in the way we expect. But in the way we need. I still don’t wait well. But I wait more honestly now. I let myself feel the tension. I let myself name the frustration. And I let God meet me in it.
📓 Journaling Prompts:
Let today be a space to reflect without pressure:
- What are you waiting for right now?
- How does waiting feel in your body, your mind, your spirit?
- What thoughts come up when you feel stuck or delayed?
- Write a letter to God from inside the waiting. Let it be messy. Let it be real.
📌 Keynote for Daily Living
Waiting isn’t wasted. It’s where strength is born.
🙏 Closing Prayer
God,
I don’t like waiting. I don’t like silence. I don’t like not knowing.
But I trust You.
Even here.
Even now.
Renew my strength.
Teach me to walk when I cannot run.
Amen.
🌅 Sneak Peek: Day 4 – When the Past Still Hurts
Tomorrow, we’ll talk about the pain that lingers. The memories that still sting. Psalm 147:3 says “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” We’ll explore how healing doesn’t mean forgetting—and how God gently restores what once felt shattered.
