
There are seasons when your faith feels like it is living in the gap.
You believe God called you. You know He spoke. You can point to the moment when hope came alive in your spirit and you thought, This is it. This is the beginning. But now, the “beginning” feels buried under delays, detours, and disappointments. The promise seems quiet. The progress feels slow. And if you are honest, you have wondered, Did I miss it, or did God move on?
Here is the steady, soul-lifting truth: God does not begin stories He does not intend to complete. What He starts, He always finishes. Not always on our timeline, not always through our preferred process, but always with His faithful hand on the last chapter.
Sometimes the biggest battle is not whether God has power, it is whether we can trust His patience.
God remembered Rachel, and that changes how we read our waiting
Rachel’s story is one of the most tender reminders that God sees people who feel overlooked.
She was loved by Jacob, but she carried a grief that love alone could not fix. She wanted a child and could not conceive. In a culture where barrenness was heavy with shame and misunderstanding, her pain was public. Month after month, year after year, Rachel lived with the ache of an unanswered prayer.
Then Scripture says something that does not feel dramatic, but it is deeply holy: “Then God remembered Rachel; he listened to her and enabled her to conceive.” (Genesis 30:22, NIV)
God remembered.
That does not mean God had forgotten and suddenly recalled her name. It means God turned His attention toward her situation with covenant faithfulness. It means heaven leaned in. It means her timeline was still within His care. It means her tears were never wasted.
If you are in a waiting season, Rachel’s story is a quiet reassurance: your delay is not your denial. God’s silence is not His absence. God is not ignoring you, postponing you, or punishing you. He is working in ways you cannot yet see, and He has not lost track of your address.
Sometimes we ask for healing, and God intends resurrection
Now step into another scene, one that stretches our faith in a different direction.
Lazarus is sick, and the family sends word to Jesus. They believe in His ability. They have seen miracles. They have heard His voice shift atmospheres. This is not a question of whether Jesus can help, it is simply a question of when.
But Jesus does not come quickly.
Lazarus dies.
Time passes.
Not just one day, not two, but four days. Long enough for grief to settle in the bones. Long enough for the funeral to end and the quiet to begin. Long enough for the “what if” thoughts to start circling: If only He had come sooner.
When Jesus finally arrives, Martha meets Him with honesty: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” (John 11:21, NIV) Mary later echoes the same words. Their faith is real, but it is contained within the boundaries of what they think is possible. They wanted healing. They wanted prevention. They wanted Jesus to fix it before it broke.
And many of us pray that way too.
Lord, heal it before it gets worse.
Lord, change them before the relationship collapses.
Lord, provide before the bills pile up.
Lord, open the door before I lose my strength.
But Jesus is not only the healer. He is the Resurrection and the Life.
This moment is not just about restoring health; it is about revealing glory. Jesus stands at a tomb, not because He is late, but because He is intentional. He is about to show them a side of God’s power they would never have known if everything had worked out neatly.
Martha even tries to manage the moment: “But, Lord… by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.” (John 11:39, NIV) In other words, “Jesus, this is past the point of help.”
Yet Jesus calls Lazarus out.
Resurrection.
Not the version they asked for, but the version that would build their faith forever.
If you are facing something that feels too far gone, this story is for you. Some situations do not need a touch-up, they need a comeback. Some dreams do not need adjustment, they need revival. Some callings do not need a quick fix, they need resurrection power.
God can do more than prevent death. He can reverse it.
Begin again, Zerubbabel: God finishes what He starts
There is another name tucked into Scripture for anyone who has stared at unfinished work and wondered if they will ever complete what God began: Zerubbabel.
He led the people in rebuilding the temple after exile. This was not glamorous work. This was rubble work. This was slow progress, limited resources, and constant opposition. The people remembered Solomon’s temple and wept because the new foundation looked small in comparison. Critics mocked. Friends grew tired. The task felt endless.
And God spoke a word that still strengthens builders today: “Zerubbabel laid the foundation of this temple, and he will complete it.” (Zechariah 4:9, NIV)
Then God adds the part we tend to forget in our hurry: “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin.” (Zechariah 4:10, NIV)
Notice what God celebrates. Not only the finished temple, but the start. The first stones. The first steps. The first prayer whispered through fatigue. The first day, you kept going even when you did not feel anything.
The message to Zerubbabel is a message to you: Begin again.
Not because you failed, but because you are still called.
Not because it is easy, but because God is still in it.
Not because you have everything you need, but because God provides what He requires.
Begin again with your marriage conversations, even if you have tried before.
Begin again with your healing journey, even if you are tired of starting over.
Begin again with your devotional life, even if shame has tried to lock you out of intimacy.
Begin again with your calling, even if it feels like the world moved on.
God is not intimidated by your unfinished places. He is not frustrated by your pace. He is not shocked by your setbacks. He is a finisher.
Seeing your story from God’s perspective
I have learned that discouragement often comes when I interpret my life only through what I can measure: how fast things are changing, how many doors are open, how much progress is visible, how close I feel to the promise.
But God sees layers I cannot see.
He sees the character He is forming in me while I wait.
He sees the faith strengthening in the dark.
He sees the humility growing where pride used to live.
He sees the endurance taking root.
He sees the compassion deepening.
He sees the way I will one day comfort others with the comfort I received.
And He sees the ending.
That is what steadies my heart: the God who wrote the promise also wrote the fulfillment. The God who planted the seed also planned the harvest. The God who put the dream in me did not do it to tease me. He did it because He intends to bring it to completion.
If God remembered Rachel, He remembers you.
If Jesus called Lazarus out, He can call your hope back to life.
If God strengthened Zerubbabel, He will strengthen you to finish.
So today, I am choosing to pray with confidence, not because everything looks good, but because God is good.
What He starts, He always finishes.
Prayer:
Father, thank You that You are faithful, steady, and good. When I feel stuck in the middle, remind me that You are still writing. Help me trust You when the timeline is longer than I expected. Thank You that You remembered Rachel, and You remember me. Thank You that Jesus is not only able to heal, but able to resurrect what feels dead. Speak courage into my spirit like You did for Zerubbabel, and help me begin again with hope, humility, and endurance. Strengthen my hands for the work, calm my mind from fear, and anchor my heart in Your promises. I choose to believe You will finish what You started in me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Leave a comment