She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the dim glow of the streetlight filtering through the curtains. The silence of the night felt heavy, mirroring the weight in her heart. Her husband lay beside her, his breathing steady, but she knew sleep hadn’t come easily for him either. He had stopped talking about their hopes for a child and stopped praying about it out loud. And though he held her when she cried, wiped her tears when the pain was too much, she could feel the quiet resignation settling in his spirit.
They had done everything they could, and years of secondary infertility had led them to embryo adoption. The moment the test showed two pink lines, joy had flooded their souls. But it had been short-lived. Their miracle had slipped from their hands too soon, taken to Heaven before they had the chance to hold them. And now, the weight of grief mixed with the reality of empty finances and impossible adoption costs. The system offered little hope. Even if a baby or a sibling group became available through foster care, there were no guarantees. It felt like every door was shutting.
But she couldn’t stop praying. She wouldn’t. Even if she had to carry the weight of hope alone, she would. She laced up her spiritual combat boots and stood firm in prayer, believing that somehow, some way, God would make a way. She longed for her husband to stand beside her, not just in love and support but in faith. To hold on to hope with her. To fight for the children God had placed in their hearts to raise up for His kingdom.
Waiting can be one of the hardest things we endure. It stretches our faith, tests our patience, and often leaves us wondering if God sees us. If you’ve ever felt the weight of unanswered prayers and longed for God to move, you are not alone. He sees every tear, every whispered prayer, and every moment your heart aches. And He is still faithful.
When David was in the wilderness, hiding in caves and running for his life, he had already been anointed as king. But his reality didn’t match the promise. He could have lost hope—many would have. Yet in those moments, he strengthened himself in the Lord (1 Samuel 30:6). That’s what I pray over those who are weary today—that in the waiting, in the questions, in the weariness, they would be strengthened by God Himself.
It’s not about mustering up faith through sheer willpower. It’s about encountering the God who is faithful. Even when circumstances don’t make sense, doors seem closed, and the wait stretches longer than we imagined—He is faithful.
Hebrews 10:23 says, Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful. The enemy wants you to loosen your grip, to settle into discouragement, and to believe this is the end of the story. But your prayers are powerful (James 5:16). Your faith is not in vain.
Too often, we base our future and the chances of success on worldly measures and resources. But finances do not limit God. Systems or policies do not bind him. He is the God who creates roads in the wilderness and streams in the desert (Isaiah 43:19). If He placed the desire within you to raise a generation for His kingdom, He will be faithful to fulfill His purposes.
So, sweet friend, if hope feels heavy, know this: God is still writing your story. And when He writes a story, it’s never without redemption. It’s never without purpose. Hold on, press in, and trust that one day, you will look back—not just with tears of sorrow, but with the testimony of how He carried you through and fulfilled His promise in ways you never expected.
-Elisha Kearns, founder and president of Waiting for Baby Bird Ministries
