Blessing Others in the Waiting

A Reflection on Stillness, Service, and Elijah’s Example 

I’ll be honest—every morning I wake up wishing I had somewhere to be.

A job.

A shop.

A schedule that fills the hours and gives structure to the day.

Waiting is not something I do naturally or easily. I am a doer, a builder, a visionary. And yet, here I am—in a season marked by blank space and silence.

But something surprising is unfolding in this space: blessing.

Scripture gives us the story of Elijah, a prophet of powerful moments and passionate obedience.

And yet, there is a quiet part of his story we often overlook—the waiting.

After his dramatic confrontation with the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel, Elijah flees in fear and exhaustion.

God leads him to the wilderness, to rest under a broom tree (1 Kings 19:4–8).

There, an angel meets him not with commands, but with nourishment.

Elijah is allowed to rest. To sleep. To eat.

Again and again.

Later, in a cave on Mount Horeb, Elijah waits in silence. God is not in the wind, not in the earthquake, not in the fire—but in the gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–13).

It is in this quiet, unscheduled space that Elijah hears God most clearly.

 

This summer, I’ve found myself in that cave.

And in the whisper.

If I’m truly honest, my body and mind are deeply tired—not just from this past year, but from years of caregiving, creating, pushing forward.

The grief from losing my mother is compounded by the responsibilities of her estate, and the emotional manipulation I’ve had to navigate is soul-wearying.

There are days I feel like I am carrying invisible weights.

And yet…

There's grace here.

👵 Because my calendar is blank, I was able to spend several Wednesdays with my grandlittles— making art, exploring the zoo, laughing through movie afternoons.

Those are the moments that build legacy.

🪡 Because I’m not tethered to a business or full-time job right now, I had the flexibility to alter clothing for loved ones—a small act of love that made them feel seen and cared for.

🚗 Because I had no pressing commitments, I was able to loan my car to a family member after they were in an accident—helping them navigate their own waiting with a little more ease.

(And for the record—watch for deer, friends.)

🧵 I’ve pieced quilts for special celebrations, letting my creativity speak when my words felt thin.

We often equate usefulness with productivity, but Scripture gently reminds us that stillness can also serve a purpose.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

It’s not a passive command—it’s an invitation.

To trust.

To rest.

To let go of the anxiety that says we must always be doing to be valuable.

Even Jesus withdrew to quiet places to pray (Luke 5:16).

He knew the rhythm of rest was necessary to fulfill the purpose of His calling.

So I’m trying to shift my mindset:

This blank space isn’t a punishment.

It’s provision.

God has made room in my life so I can show up for others in small but significant ways.

My hands are open, my schedule available—not for me to fill with busyness, but for Him to fill with purpose.

And while I’m still avoiding a few things (like unpacking and decorating my house—still not sure why), I’m learning that the world doesn’t end if I pause.

Maybe, just maybe, this waiting is not about what’s next, but about learning how to be present now.

If you find yourself in a season like this, friend—don’t rush through it.

Don’t despise the quiet.

You may be surprised by how God uses your open hands and open hours to bring healing, joy, and grace to others.

Because in the waiting…

you just might become the blessing.