Sometimes the greatest miracle isn’t that God changes our circumstances—it’s that He changes us while we wait.

“Those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be shaken but endures forever.” — Psalm 125:1

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Devotional

He was strengthening me.

I just didn’t know it.

A few months ago, I sat reading the results of my MRI. Words like disc extrusion, acute foraminal stenosis, and degenerative changes stared back at me from the report. They finally explained the pain that had been travelling down both of my legs and why some mornings simply getting out of bed felt harder than it should.

Since then, I’ve been referred to a pain clinic. I’ve faithfully attended physiotherapy, completed the exercises, and done everything I can to care for the body God has entrusted to me.

Yet if I’m honest, there has been no noticeable difference in my pain levels.

That has been difficult to accept.

Like anyone living with chronic pain, I’ve prayed for healing. I’ve asked God to ease the pain, restore what feels broken, and make life feel normal again.

I kept hoping the next appointment would bring better news.

The next treatment.

The next exercise.

The next report.

Instead, something unexpected began to change.

Me.

The pain didn’t disappear overnight, but my heart slowly became steadier. I noticed I wasn’t living in fear the way I had at first. I stopped asking, “Why is this happening?” and started asking, “Lord, what are You teaching me while I walk through this?”

Looking back now, I can see I had been watching the wrong place.

While I was waiting for God to strengthen my body, He was strengthening my faith.

Psalm 125 compares those who trust in the Lord to Mount Zion—firm, unshaken, enduring. Mountains don’t become strong overnight. They are shaped over countless seasons by pressure, wind, rain, and time. What appears immovable today was formed slowly.

God often works that way in us.

Living with chronic pain has taught me that strength doesn’t always look like physical recovery.

Sometimes strength is simply getting out of bed.

Sometimes it’s driving to another appointment.

Sometimes it’s faithfully completing another set of physiotherapy exercises, even though yesterday’s made no noticeable difference.

And sometimes it looks like saying “yes” when Luna and Emmett want Grammy’s attention.

There are days when they’re bursting with energy, asking endless questions, wanting me to play another game, read another story, or chase them around the yard. If I’m honest, there are moments when my body wants to say, “I can’t do this today.”

But then I’m reminded that love isn’t measured by how easy life feels.

It’s measured by showing up.

Not perfectly.

Just faithfully.

Those afternoons have become unexpected gifts from God.

They remind me that while my body has limitations, God’s strength does not. He gives me enough grace for one more story, one more cuddle, one more game, one more whispered prayer as I watch them laugh.

Those ordinary moments have become some of God’s greatest lessons.

They remind me that His strength often appears quietly—in the choices we make to keep loving, keep serving, and keep trusting, even when nothing about our circumstances feels easy.

Looking back, I can see that my hardest seasons were never interruptions to God’s work.

They were where He did some of His deepest work in me.

He taught me to pray before I panicked, surrender what I couldn’t control, and trust Him when I couldn’t yet see what He was doing.

I kept hoping for a report that said everything was improving.

Instead, God quietly showed me that even while my body remained weak, He was building a faith that wasn’t dependent on the next MRI, the next appointment, or the next treatment.

That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped praying for healing.

I still do.

I believe God heals.

I believe He works through doctors, specialists, physiotherapists, pain clinics, and sometimes in ways we cannot explain.

But I’ve also learned that while I’m waiting for healing, God refuses to waste the waiting.

He uses it.

He shapes us.

He draws us closer to Himself.

Some prayers remain unanswered longer than we ever imagined.

Some circumstances don’t change this side of heaven.

That doesn’t mean God has abandoned us.

His promise has never been that life would always become easy.

He promises that He will never leave us to carry the burden alone.

I don’t know when—or even how—God will answer my prayers for healing.

But I know this with certainty.

He has already answered one of my deepest prayers.

He has never left me to walk this road alone.

His strength has carried me through every medical appointment, every difficult morning, every physiotherapy session that seemed to accomplish so little, and every day I wondered if anything would ever improve.

And somehow, it has also given me enough strength to keep loving my family, writing these devotionals, caring for Luna and Emmett, and finding joy in moments I might once have overlooked.

That, too, is healing.

Not the healing I prayed for.

But healing that is quietly transforming my heart while I continue to wait.

If you’re waiting for healing…

If you’re waiting for answers…

If you’re waiting for circumstances to change…

Don’t assume God is doing nothing.

He may already be answering your prayer in the most important place possible.

Within you.

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Reflection

• Where have I been measuring God’s faithfulness by my circumstances?
• What strength has God already been building in me?
• How can I continue showing up faithfully while I wait?

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Key Notes for Daily Living

• God often strengthens us before He changes our circumstances.
• Waiting is never wasted in God’s hands.
• Faith grows through perseverance, not perfection.
• God’s presence is often His greatest answer before physical healing arrives.
• Every act of faithful love reflects God’s strength at work within us.

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Prayer

Lord,

When my body grows weary, remind me that Your strength never does. Help me trust You even when I cannot yet see healing. Teach me to recognize Your work within me while I continue to wait for Your work around me. Thank You for every moment You have carried me, every person You’ve given me to love, and every reminder that I never walk this journey alone. Continue strengthening my faith until the day healing comes—whether here on earth or in Your eternal presence.

Amen.