“Peace is not found when the waiting ends, but when we recognize that God is already near.” - Brian Turner

Two days before Christmas.

For many, this season is wrapped in lights, familiar songs, and well-worn traditions. And yet for just as many, it carries a quieter weight—grief that hasn’t lifted, prayers that remain unanswered, exhaustion that joy hasn’t fully touched.

Some are holding celebration and sorrow at the same time. Gratitude and longing. Faith—and fatigue.

Scripture is honest about this tension. Waiting is one of the hardest parts of faith, not because it is empty, but because it exposes what we carry. Waiting feels uncertain when we crave clarity. It feels passive when we want to act. It feels quiet—and silence has a way of revealing our fears.

So we rush. We distract. We fill the space.

But Christmas invites us to do something different.

It invites us to slow down and receive a truth that reframes everything: God does not meet us only on the other side of the waiting. He meets us in it.

The Long Obedience of Christmas

The story of Christmas is not a story of instant fulfillment. It is a story of long obedience, long hope, long trust.

Centuries of promise. Generations of expectation. Prophets speaking—and silence answering back.

And then God comes.

Not in spectacle.
Not in power.
Not in a palace.

He comes quietly. Humbly. Personally. As a child.

Matthew tells us, “They shall call His name Immanuel,” which means God with us. That is not merely a name. It is a revelation.

Not God above us.
Not God distant from us.
Not God waiting for us to get everything right.

God with us.

With us in the waiting.
With us in the questions.
With us in the unfinished stories.

This matters—especially in seasons where we are tempted to believe that peace will come after things resolve. Scripture tells us something deeper. Peace does not arrive when everything is settled. Peace comes when we recognize that God is near.

God’s answer to waiting was not an explanation. It was a presence.

Waiting Is Not an Interruption

From the beginning, God has formed His people through waiting.

Abraham waited for a promise.
Joseph waited in a prison cell.
Israel waited in slavery and wilderness.
David waited to become king.
The prophets waited for redemption.

Waiting has never meant God was absent. It has always meant God was at work.

Faith is not proven by how quickly things resolve. Faith is proven by who we trust, while they don’t.

When Matthew declares Jesus as Immanuel, he is making a theological claim: God has chosen nearness over distance. Presence over instruction. Incarnation over explanation.

God does not rescue humanity from afar. He enters the human story. He takes on limitation, vulnerability, and uncertainty—not to rush us through them, but to walk with us inside them.

This is why peace is possible before circumstances change. Peace is not the absence of tension. Peace is the presence of God.

When Waiting Wears on the Soul

Waiting is difficult not only because of what we lack, but because of what it exposes. Our desire for control. Our fear of being unseen. Our worry is that delay means abandonment.

In the waiting, we ask more than “When will this change?”
We ask, “Have I been forgotten?”

Faith rarely collapses all at once. More often, it erodes quietly—through unanswered prayers and expectations that didn’t unfold as imagined.

But Scripture tells us this: the people closest to Jesus's birth did not have resolved lives. Mary carried promise and uncertainty together. Joseph obeyed without clarity. Shepherds lived ordinary lives when glory interrupted them.

None had control. All had presence.

Which tells us something essential: your waiting is not a disqualification. It may be the very place God is closest.

Some of us are waiting for clarity—and God is offering companionship.
Some are waiting for answers—and God is offering presence.
Some are waiting for peace to arrive later—and God is whispering, “I am already here.”

Christmas does not dismiss our longing. It reframes where God is while we wait.

Practicing Peace in the Waiting

Peace is not something we stumble into accidentally. It is something we learn to receive intentionally.

Scripture invites us into peace through simple, faithful practices—not dramatic gestures, but quiet attentiveness.

Name your waiting honestly. Not impressively. Not spiritually. Honestly.
Practice presence before answers. Sit with God without an agenda.
Release the pressure to resolve everything. God gives light for the next step, not the entire road.
Anchor your waiting in Scripture—not as information, but as a resting place.
Practice patience with yourself. Waiting is not a test to pass or fail; it is a season to walk through.

These practices may not remove the waiting, but they will change how you carry it. They create space for peace to grow quietly—often before anything changes.

Because Emmanuel—God with us—is not a promise for someday. It is a reality for today.

God With You—Here and Now

You are not late.
You are not forgotten.
You are not alone.

God is with you—right here, right now, even in the waiting.

And that is enough for this moment.

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Back to Brian Turner Ministries

This reflection flows from Episode 4 of Rise with Brian Turner: God With Us — Finding Peace in the Waiting. If you are walking through a season of waiting, you are invited to listen, share, and return as we continue to explore what it means to rise into the life God is forming in us.