What to Do When God Says Wait
There are moments in your walk with God when His Word ignites something deep within you—so deep, it feels like your whole being trembles to contain it. The prophet Jeremiah once wrote,
“His word was in my heart like a burning fire shut up in my bones; I was weary of holding it in, and I could not endure it” (Jeremiah 20:9, NASB).
You know this feeling if you’ve ever carried something from God that you couldn’t yet release. It’s not imagined. It’s holy. When God entrusts you with revelation, it stirs your spirit. But what happens when the Holy Spirit says, Not yet?
That is the tension I’ve been living in this past week.
A Word Spoken—and Held
A week ago, a local pastor offered me a word of counsel. It wasn’t a rebuke—it was seasoned with grace and conviction. He pointed me to Ecclesiastes 5:2:
“Do not be hasty in word or impulsive in thought to bring up a matter in the presence of God. For God is in heaven and you are on the earth; therefore, let your words be few.”
At the time, I felt like I might explode with what the Lord had shown me. I wanted to pour it out. But this word stopped me—not with resistance, but with reverence. And it has been percolating in my spirit ever since. I realized: the overflow is not the goal—obedience is. The fire in my bones was real, but God was inviting me to carry it with greater maturity.
The River That Taught Me
About a year ago, the Lord gave me a vision of the river of God. It flowed from the throne like the rivers described in Ezekiel 47 and Revelation 22. In that vision, I would leap into the river with joy and let it carry me wherever He willed. I didn’t try to steer. I didn’t try to swim. I just wanted to go where He led.
Later, I shared this with a faithful brother. He listened, then asked, “What were you looking for?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “I just wanted to be carried by the Lord.”
Then he said something that stayed with me:
“Have you ever tried swimming?”
That simple question changed me. I had never thought of swimming as part of the river. But when I tried it, something shifted. I wasn’t resisting the current—I was moving with it. Not in my own strength, but in rhythm with His.
I go back to that river often. It reminds me that surrender and obedience are not passive. Sometimes they look like stillness. Sometimes they look like movement. But they always look like trust.
This past week, when that fire began burning in my bones, I returned again to the river. The same lesson came: wait when He says wait, move when He says move, and trust that the fire is safe in His hands.
Enlarging the Heart
Psalm 119:32 says, “I will run the way of Your commandments, for You will enlarge my heart.” That’s what God does in the waiting. He doesn’t put out the fire. He gives you a greater capacity to carry it.
Yeshua told His disciples, “I have many more things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now” (John 16:12, NASB). Even the Son waited. Not because the Word lacked power, but because the people lacked readiness. If He waited, how much more should we?
Maturity isn’t proven by how quickly you speak, but by how deeply you can carry the Word until God opens the door. What feels like delay is often preparation. The vessel must be shaped before the oil can be poured out.
Fire Without Frenzy
Mary received the Word from the angel. She carried the promise of Messiah. And what did she do? “She treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Luke 2:19, NASB). She didn’t rush to speak. She allowed the fire to deepen.
When Moses turned aside to see the bush that burned without being consumed, he first removed his sandals. He stood on holy ground in stillness before the Word of the Lord came (Exodus 3:1–5). The fire burned, but it waited.
Even Elijah built the altar before the fire fell. He arranged the stones, soaked the offering, and prayed at the appointed time (1 Kings 18:36–38). Fire in Scripture doesn’t arrive to impress—it arrives in alignment.
If you’re burning, beloved, but God has not said speak, you’re not being rejected. You’re being refined.
The Body and the Timing
Sometimes God says wait so someone else can speak. The Church is a body, not a solo voice. When you yield your moment, you make room for others. That is love. That is unity. That is maturity.
“The spirits of prophets are subject to prophets” (1 Corinthians 14:32, NASB). That means even your deepest urgency must yield to the order and rhythm of the Spirit. This is not suppression. It is consecration. It is holy fire under holy restraint.
And when the Lord finally says, “Now,” your words will not merely blaze. They will bear fruit. They will not just stir. They will sanctify.
Fire in the Silence
So here I am, one week later, still burning. But no longer restless. The silence has become my censer. The waiting has become worship. The fire has not faded—it has deepened.
You may be in that place too. If so, I say to you:
Wait well. Burn deep. And let the Lord enlarge your heart.
A week I’ve held this word, Lord, and still the fire burns.
The silence is my censer now, in which the incense turns.
You do not waste the waiting time, nor shame the unsent flame.
But forge within a tongue of fire that speaks only Your name.
Prayer
Father, You see the fire You’ve placed within me. It burns with longing to speak, to move, to release what You’ve shown. But I hear Your whisper calling me to wait. So I yield the fire back to You—not to extinguish it, but to honor You in the silence. Enlarge my heart, Lord. Teach me to carry the flame with wisdom. Make me still like Moses before the bush, patient like Mary treasuring the Word, and obedient like Yeshua, who waited until the fullness of time.
Refine me in the waiting. Let the silence become my offering, and the delay my place of worship. I trust You with the timing, the release, and the impact. When You say speak, I will speak. Until then, I will burn in secret and walk with You in trust. Let the flame deepen, not diminish. And when I open my mouth again, let it be Your fire and Your voice alone. In Yeshua’s name, amen.