endurance in faith

When God Doesn’t Expedite

~ Observant Servant

I didn’t expect a simple comment in conversation to stay with me the way it did.

“You can’t pray hard to get express shipping on God’s timing.”

It wasn’t said harshly. It wasn’t meant to correct me. But it settled into my thoughts in a way that felt… exposing. Not because it was wrong, but because it quietly touched something I’ve wrestled with more than I like to admit.

There have been many moments in my walk with God where my prayers carried more urgency than surrender. Not just asking… but hoping something would shift faster because I was asking more intensely. As if persistence could speed up what God had already set in motion.

I don’t think that came from a place of unbelief. I think it came from longing.

There is a kind of ache that comes with unanswered prayer. Not the kind rooted in doubt, but the kind rooted in hope. The kind that knows God can do it… and wonders why He hasn’t yet.

And somewhere in that tension, I’ve had to confront something in my own heart.

Was I trusting God… or was I trying to manage His timing?

Scripture has a way of gently exposing what we don’t always want to see clearly.

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

A time. Not my time. Not the time that feels most comfortable or most logical. His.

That’s where deep faith begins to look different than I once imagined. It’s not just believing that God will answer. It’s believing that His timing is not a delay… it’s part of the answer. That can be harder because delay feels like silence if we’re not careful.

But Scripture reframes that too.

“The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward…” — 2 Peter 3:9

What I sometimes interpret as slowness… God calls patience. What I sometimes experience as stillness… God may be using as preparation.

There have been prayers in my life that, looking back now, I’m grateful were not answered quickly. Not because they were wrong prayers, but because I wasn’t ready for the weight of what I was asking for. Or because God was doing something deeper than the request itself.

And that’s the part we don’t always talk about.

God doesn’t just answer prayers. He forms people. So sometimes the waiting isn’t about withholding. It’s about shaping.

“But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.” — James 1:4

There is a work happening in the waiting that I would have missed if everything arrived when I wanted it to. Yet, this doesn’t mean we stop praying with urgency or desire. Scripture never tells us to become passive or detached. Jesus Himself spoke of persistence in prayer.

“Men ought always to pray, and not to faint.” — Luke 18:1

So it’s not that we stop asking. It’s that we release the timeline. There is a difference between pressing into God… and trying to pressure His hand.

One is rooted in relationship. The other can sometimes be rooted in fear. Fear that if it doesn’t happen soon, it won’t happen at all. But deep faith doesn’t rush God.

Deep faith rests in Him.

Even when the answer hasn’t come. Even when the door is still closed. Even when the silence stretches longer than expected. Deep faith trusts that God is not just hearing the prayer… He is holding the timing.

“Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.” — Psalm 27:14

There is strengthening that only comes through waiting. Not passive waiting. Not discouraged waiting. But surrendered waiting. The kind that says, “Lord, I trust You not only with the outcome… but with the process.” That kind of trust doesn’t come overnight. It’s learned. Slowly. Sometimes painfully. But faithfully.

I’m still learning it. Still catching myself when I try to rush what God is carefully unfolding. Still being invited back into that quiet place of trust where I remember… He is not late. He is not withholding. He is not unaware.

He is God.

And His timing is not something to fight against… it’s something to rest inside of.

“He hath made every thing beautiful in his time…” — Ecclesiastes 3:11

In His time.

Not rushed. Not forced.

But beautiful.

Lord,

I come to You honestly, with all the places in my heart that still want to rush what You are doing. You see the prayers I’ve prayed, the things I’ve longed for, the answers I’ve hoped would come sooner. And yet, You have remained steady, faithful, and unchanging.

Teach me to trust Your timing, not just Your ability. Help me to release the urge to control what was never mine to control. Where impatience has taken root, replace it with peace. Where fear has whispered that delay means denial, remind me of Your promises.

Strengthen my heart in the waiting. Form something in me that could not be formed any other way. Let my prayers come from a place of relationship, not pressure. From surrender, not striving.

I trust that You are not late. I trust that You are working, even when I cannot see it. And I choose to rest in Your timing, knowing that You make all things beautiful in Your time.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

expectancy of answered prayer

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God’s Gift of Hate

~ Observant Servant

There was a season in my walk with Christ when my world quietly shifted. When I first became a believer, my circle of secular friends slowly faded and was replaced with Christian community. That part didn’t surprise me. It felt like a natural consequence of choosing a new direction.

What I didn’t expect was that when I began speaking openly about deliverance, my circle would shrink again. Conversations became strained. Some of the same believers who once felt close seemed uncomfortable around me. There was a noticeable distance, an unspoken hesitation. I hadn’t anticipated that obedience would cost me fellowship in certain spaces.

But I can say this now with clarity: it has been worth it.

Following Jesus has always come with a cost. He never hid that. And stepping onto the front lines of spiritual warfare exposes things that comfortable Christianity often prefers not to address. When your eyes are opened to the battle, you can’t unsee it.

Looking back at old journals from when I was newly born again, I can see that the Holy Spirit was gently trying to show me that I still needed freedom in certain areas. At the time, I didn’t understand what I was being shown. Later, when I did become involved in a church, I was warned away from a particular minister whose teachings had been helping me. I trusted the counsel I was given and stepped back. Only now do I realize that the enemy had quietly used well-meaning believers to delay my deliverance.

That realization stirred something in me.

Not bitterness toward people — but a deep, fierce hatred toward what the enemy does to people. I began to see more clearly the destruction, the compromise, the confusion he sows. I saw how he delays healing, twists truth, isolates believers, and even hides behind religious language to keep people bound.

And I realized something else: if we do not hate sin, we will tolerate it.

Scripture says, “You who love the Lord, hate evil” (Psalm 97:10). That used to sound harsh to me. Now it sounds protective. If I love what God loves, I must also hate what harms what He loves. Proverbs 6:16–19 tells us plainly that there are things the Lord hates — pride, lying, violence, wicked schemes, discord among brothers. Godly love does not coexist with passive acceptance of evil.

This kind of hatred is not rage toward people. It is not personal vendetta. It is not self-righteousness. It is a settled, holy refusal to make peace with what destroys souls.

I have learned that hatred of sin strengthens resolve. It sharpens discernment. It fuels repentance. It keeps you from excusing the very thing that once enslaved you. When you truly hate your bondage, you stop negotiating with it.

For years, I misunderstood my struggles. I thought I simply needed to try harder, pray longer, perform better. But real freedom began when I stopped minimizing sin and started seeing it the way God sees it — not as a harmless flaw, but as a thief.

There is a righteous anger that rises when you understand what the enemy has stolen from you and from others. That anger, when surrendered to God, becomes a weapon. Not against flesh and blood, but against deception.

We are heirs of the King. Not timid observers. Not passive bystanders. But sons and daughters called to stand.

If we do not hate sin, we will eventually accommodate it. If we do not hate deception, we will slowly be shaped by it. If we do not hate the enemy’s schemes, we will underestimate them.

This is not about becoming harsh. It is about becoming clear.

And clarity is a gift.

A Prayer for the Godly Gift of Hate

Father,

Search my heart and purify my motives. If there is bitterness in me, remove it. If there is pride in me, humble it. But if there is passivity toward sin, awaken me.

Teach me to love what You love and to hate what You hate. Give me a holy hatred for the things that destroy souls, corrupt truth, and delay freedom. Help me never to direct that hatred toward people, but toward the sin and deception that binds them.

Strengthen me to refuse compromise. Sharpen my discernment so I do not excuse what You call evil. Let my anger be righteous and surrendered, not reckless or fleshly.

Make me bold but gentle. Fierce but humble. Unyielding toward sin, yet overflowing with mercy toward people.

I belong to You. Train my heart for battle. Guard me from deception. And let my hatred of evil always flow from a deeper love for You.

In Jesus’ name,
Amen.