God Is With Me in the Waiting Room
I’m waiting for surgery on my 60th birthday, and I’m learning that I don’t need to know everything that comes next. Isaiah 41:10 reminds me that God is with me in the waiting.
God’s presence while waiting
Scripture Focus: Isaiah 41:10
“Do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be afraid, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you; I will help you;
I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.”
Isaiah 41:10, NRSVUE
There is a date on my calendar that I keep coming back to.
October 7.
It is my 60th birthday.
It is also the day I am scheduled for surgery.
I don’t think I could have planned that combination if I had tried.
Turning 60 feels like one of those birthdays that makes you stop and look back. Sixty years is a lot of life. There are memories I am grateful for, things I have learned, people who have shaped me, and seasons I never expected to walk through.
Normally, I would be thinking about celebrating.
Instead, this year, I am also thinking about a hospital.
About surgery.
About recovery.
About the things I know and the things I don’t.
And about how much of this I simply cannot control.
That is where the waiting gets difficult.
The surgery hasn’t happened yet, but it has already become part of my thoughts. Some days I can put it aside and carry on with whatever is in front of me. Other days, my mind gets there before I do.
What will that day be like?
How will I feel?
What will recovery look like?
What will change afterward?
I don’t have all the answers.
And I am learning that I don’t have to.
Because there is one thing I can know while I wait:
God is with me.
What Isaiah 41:10 Really Gives Us in a Waiting Season
Isaiah 41:10 is not a promise that difficult things will never happen.
It was spoken to God’s people in a time of uncertainty and fear. God reminded them of who He was and of His presence with them.
That matters.
Because sometimes we can read a verse like this and accidentally turn it into a promise that everything will work out exactly as we want.
That’s not what Isaiah 41:10 says.
It doesn’t tell me that my surgery will have a particular outcome.
It doesn’t tell me that I won’t be afraid.
It doesn’t tell me that I will understand everything that happens.
It tells me:
“I am with you.”
Then God speaks of strengthening, helping, and upholding His people.
That is where I find comfort.
Not in knowing exactly what will happen, but in knowing that I don’t have to face what happens without Him.
I Can Be Afraid and Still Trust God
I think I’ve sometimes confused faith with feeling calm.
If I really trust God, shouldn’t I be completely peaceful?
Shouldn’t I be able to think about October 7 without feeling nervous?
But I’m beginning to see it differently.
I don’t think faith means I have to pretend I’m not afraid.
I can be nervous about surgery and still trust God.
I can have questions and still pray.
I can have a day when I feel strong and another day when I don’t.
None of that changes who God is.
So I don’t need to hide the uncomfortable parts of this from Him.
I can simply say:
“Lord, I’m afraid.”
He already knows.
I can say:
“I don’t know what is going to happen.”
He already knows that too.
And I can say:
“I need You.”
That is a prayer I can pray without trying to make it sound more spiritual than it is.
I’m Learning Not to Live October 7 Before It Gets Here
One of the hardest parts of waiting is that my mind can take me somewhere my body hasn’t gone yet.
I can be sitting at home and suddenly I’m thinking about the hospital.
Then I think about surgery.
Then recovery.
Then I start thinking about everything that could possibly happen afterward.
Before long, I’m carrying a whole future that hasn’t happened.
I have to stop.
October 7 isn’t here yet.
Today is.
Today I have things in front of me that need my attention.
Some are practical.
Some are ordinary.
Some are probably things I would overlook if I spent all my time thinking about what comes next.
So I’m trying to come back to today.
I don’t have to live October 7 on September 24.
I don’t have to experience tomorrow’s emotions today.
I can prepare for what is ahead without moving myself mentally into a future I haven’t reached.
That has become a prayer of its own:
Lord, help me stay where You have placed me today.
There Is a Difference Between Preparing and Controlling
I want to be prepared for surgery.
That’s reasonable.
There are things I need to arrange. There are questions I need to ask. There are instructions I need to follow. There are practical things that need to be taken care of.
But preparation has a stopping point.
Eventually, I reach the things I cannot control.
And that is where I struggle.
I like having a plan.
I like knowing what comes next.
I like being able to fix things when something isn’t working.
But there are situations where preparation can only take me so far.
I can do my part.
Then I have to let go of the part that isn’t mine.
That doesn’t mean I don’t care.
It doesn’t mean I’m giving up.
It means I recognize that I am not God.
There are things only He can carry.
So when I catch myself trying to solve something that cannot be solved today, I want to be able to say:
“Lord, this is beyond my control. I’m putting it back in Your hands.”
And if I have to say that ten times in one day, I will.
God Is Already in the Waiting Room
This is the thought I keep coming back to.
I don’t have to wait until October 7 for God to be with me.
He isn’t somewhere on the other side of the hospital doors.
He isn’t waiting for me to become brave enough before He comes near.
He is with me now.
He’s with me while I wait.
He’s with me when I feel calm.
He’s with me when fear creeps in.
He’s with me when I am tired of thinking about the same thing.
He’s with me when I don’t know what to pray.
And when October 7 arrives, He will still be with me.
That changes the picture in my mind.
I’m not walking toward an unknown day by myself.
I’m walking toward it with God.
I may not know what is waiting for me there.
But I know who will be there with me.
What Does Turning 60 Mean When Life Doesn’t Look the Way I Expected?
I’ve thought about this birthday quite a bit.
Sixty.
It’s a milestone.
It makes me think about where I’ve been, but it also makes me think about what comes next.
And this year, what comes next feels particularly uncertain.
For a moment, I wished the surgery wasn’t part of the story.
I wished October 7 could simply be my birthday.
A day to celebrate.
A day to laugh.
A day to look back.
But perhaps I don’t have to choose between gratitude and uncertainty.
I can be grateful for reaching 60 and still be afraid of surgery.
I can celebrate my life and still acknowledge that this is a difficult season.
I can look back with gratitude while admitting that I don’t know what the future holds.
Maybe that’s actually a more honest way to enter a new decade.
Not pretending everything is easy.
Not pretending I have all the answers.
But remembering who has been with me through the years behind me.
God has been faithful.
And the God who has been with me for 60 years will not suddenly disappear because I am facing something I cannot control.
What Can I Do While I Wait?
I don’t want to turn waiting into another list of things I have to accomplish.
Sometimes the faithful thing is to do something.
Sometimes it is to stop.
For me, I think I need both.
I can prepare where preparation is needed.
I can ask questions when I need answers.
I can accept help instead of insisting that I do everything myself.
I can rest when my body and mind need rest.
I can pray when I don’t know what else to do.
And I can allow some things to remain unfinished.
Maybe that’s important for someone else reading this too.
You don’t have to make yourself productive just because you’re anxious.
You don’t have to solve something simply because you’re uncomfortable with waiting.
Sometimes the next faithful step is very small.
Sometimes it is:
Pause.
Breathe.
Pray.
Rest.
Ask for help.
Take one step.
Then let that be enough for today.
What If God Doesn’t Give Me the Answer I Want?
This is the harder question.
It would be easy to write a devotional about waiting and say that if we trust God, everything will turn out the way we hope.
But I don’t believe Scripture gives us that promise.
Faith doesn’t mean I get to know the outcome.
Faith means I can place the outcome in God’s hands.
That’s harder.
I would much rather know that everything is going to be okay according to my definition of okay.
But I don’t get that kind of certainty.
Neither does anyone else.
What I do have is the promise of God’s presence.
“I am with you.”
That has to be enough for me.
Not because the circumstances don’t matter.
They matter very much.
But because God is greater than my ability to predict what comes next.
Maybe I Don’t Need More Certainty. Maybe I Need More Trust.
I’ve spent enough time thinking about the future to know that I cannot think my way into certainty.
There will always be another question.
Another possibility.
Another what if?
At some point, I have to stop asking, “What if this happens?” and start asking, “What do I need to do with today?”
That question I can answer.
Today, I can pray.
Today, I can prepare.
Today, I can spend time with the people I love.
Today, I can be thankful.
Today, I can rest.
Today, I can trust God with what I cannot see.
That doesn’t solve October 7.
But it does give me today.
And today is where God has placed me.
If You’re Waiting for Something Too
Maybe your waiting room is completely different from mine.
Maybe you’re waiting for surgery.
Maybe you’re waiting for test results.
Maybe you’re waiting for an answer from someone you love.
Maybe you’re waiting for a financial situation to change.
Maybe you’re waiting for a door to open.
Maybe you’re waiting for a prayer to be answered.
Or maybe you’re simply waiting for something in your life to make sense again.
I won’t tell you that everything will turn out exactly the way you want.
I don’t know that.
But I can tell you what I’m reminding myself:
You don’t have to know the outcome to turn toward God.
You don’t have to stop being afraid before you pray.
You don’t have to have perfect faith.
You can come to Him with the truth.
And if all you can say is,
“God, I need You here,”
that’s enough of a prayer to begin.
Still Walking This Journey?
If you’re walking through a season of waiting, you don’t have to fill the silence with more noise or more things to do.
Sometimes we simply need Scripture, prayer, and a quiet place to remember that God is near.
Receive new Healing Journey with Christ devotionals in your inbox and access free Scripture cards, prayers, Bible reading plans, journaling pages, and other Resource Library materials.
Five Questions for the Waiting Season
Take your time with these. There isn’t a right answer.
- What am I waiting for right now, and what is the waiting bringing up in me?
- What am I trying to control because I am uncomfortable with not knowing?
- What is actually mine to do today?
- What would it look like to trust God without needing to know the outcome?
- Where do I need to make room for rest, help, or simply being still?
You don’t have to turn these questions into another assignment.
If one of them stays with you, sit with that one.
Pray about it.
Write about it.
Or simply leave it unanswered for now.
God doesn’t need a polished answer from you.
A Prayer for the Waiting Room
Lord,
You know what I’m waiting for.
You know about October 7.
You know it is my 60th birthday, and You know it is also the day I am scheduled for surgery.
You know the thoughts that come when I think about that day.
You know the things that make me nervous.
You know the questions I have.
You know what I wish I could control.
I don’t want to pretend that I’m not afraid.
So I’m bringing the fear to You.
I’m bringing the uncertainty.
I’m bringing the questions.
I’m bringing all the things I don’t know.
Help me do what I can do and release what I cannot.
Give me wisdom when I need to make decisions.
Give me courage when I need to take a step.
Help me accept help when I need it.
Help me rest when there is nothing more I can do.
And when my mind races ahead, bring me back to today.
Your Word says, “Do not fear, for I am with you.”
Help me hold onto that.
Not as a promise that everything will happen exactly as I hope, but as the assurance that I will not walk through this alone.
Be with me in the days before surgery.
Be with me when October 7 arrives.
Be with the people who will care for me.
Give wisdom and steady hands to those involved in my care.
And when I wake up on my 60th birthday, help me remember that reaching another year of life is something worth thanking You for.
I don’t know what this next year will bring.
But You already know.
So today, I place tomorrow in Your hands.
And I ask for grace to live today.
One day.
One breath.
One prayer at a time.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
Before I Leave the Waiting Room
I keep coming back to one simple thought.
October 7 will come.
I can’t stop it.
I can’t control every part of it.
And I don’t need to.
It will be my 60th birthday.
It will also be the day of my surgery.
I don’t know exactly what that day will bring.
But I don’t have to know today.
For now, I can live this day.
I can breathe.
I can pray.
I can prepare.
I can laugh.
I can cry.
I can accept help.
I can be grateful.
And I can trust God with the things I cannot see.
Because when I walk into that waiting room, I won’t be walking in alone.
God will already be there.
Still Walking This Journey?
Receive new Healing Journey with Christ devotionals in your inbox and access free Scripture cards, prayers, Bible reading plans, journaling pages, and other Resource Library materials.
Share Your Story
Have you ever found yourself waiting for something you couldn’t control?
Maybe God met you there in a way you didn’t expect.
You don’t have to share anything private or painful. You might simply share a Scripture that helped you, a prayer you kept returning to, or a small reminder of God’s presence.
Your story may be exactly what someone else needs to read while they are sitting in their own waiting room.
Share Your Guest Story →
