There was a time when waiting felt like failure to me. I thought stillness meant I wasn’t doing enough — or worse, that God’s plans had changed for me. It was discouraging, and had my mindset in a very unhealthy place. Then I realized how to have faith in the waiting even when progress felt slow and none existent.  

I’ve never been someone with a lot of patience. It’s something I’ve had to learn over the years — and my son was my greatest teacher. Caregiving changed my relationship with time completely. My son was born with Down syndrome and he has autism. He taught me patience the hard way, and in the most meaningful way. 

The world celebrates fast results. Fast growth. Fast success. Fast healing.

But caregiving rarely works that way.

Sometimes progress is painfully slow. Sometimes the victories are tiny and invisible to everyone else. Sometimes you spend years in survival mode wondering if your own dreams have quietly slipped away while you were busy taking care of everyone else.

And that kind of waiting can really mess with your heart if you let it.

Over time, I’ve learned that waiting isn’t empty; it’s sacred. It’s the quiet space where purpose takes root long before we ever see it bloom. I waited for him to be born. I knew he had Down syndrome when I was 6 months pregnant. 

I waited for him to grow. I savored every moment, but waiting for the first walk, the first word, the first run was hard. He did not walk till he was 19 months old, and he did not run till he was 5. 

I waited for him to get out of those teen years, because in all honesty, they were tough. 

Everything he did was slow, from his development to his personality. I had to learn patience because this was who he was and going faster was not something he really could learn. Oh sure we would say, “come on quickly now”, and still do , but honestly it doesn’t make much of a difference. We call him our Pokymon. 

Just a few examples of how my son taught me patience.  So what do I do with what I have learned? Well, lately my greenhouse has become a reminder of that truth. I’ll plant something, water it, and then spend days — sometimes weeks — looking at nothing but soil. But underneath, the work is happening. Roots are stretching, strengthening, and preparing to support new life. Then eventually surprise, here I am!! 

Faith works the same way with your dreams and your purpose.

When you can’t see the results yet, it doesn’t mean nothing’s happening. It just means the foundation is still forming. The seeds are planted. Those unseen moments — the ones where you’re showing up, praying, hoping, and waiting — are where strength grows.

The years I spent in network marketing taught me that truth too. “Plant the seeds” was a phrase I heard over and over from coaches and uplines whenever discouragement set in. I used to think it was just a tactic to keep people from quitting. But over time, I realized — there’s real wisdom in that.

Caregiving has a way of teaching patience like nothing else. The days are long, the progress feels slow, and sometimes it seems like life itself is on pause. But I’m learning through my own business and dreams that even in the waiting, there’s purpose. God uses those in-between spaces to refine our hearts, realign our priorities, and rebuild our faith.

If you’re in that season right now, know this:

You’re not behind. You’re being prepared.

The waiting is where peace can finally catch up with you.

There were seasons where I questioned everything:
My purpose.
My dreams.
My future.
Even my faith at times.

Because when life feels delayed long enough, it’s easy to mistake waiting for failure.

Take what you need and leave the rest to grace – Debbie