Held in the Waiting
- Brianne Thomas
- Aug 11
- 2 min read
I’ve been staring at an empty bird feeder all week—no sparrows, no chatter, just silence. At first I felt frustrated, like something was missing. But then I realized: the feeder isn’t broken. The sparrows are simply waiting—for breadcrumbs, for dawn, for the next season.
There’s a sacredness in that pause.

The Ache of Unanswered Longings
We live in a world of instant updates: notifications ping, emails arrive, playlists stream on demand. Yet some of the deepest longings of our hearts—healing, clarity, new beginnings—seem to require seasons of waiting. In the silence we wonder:
Is God still listening?
Has He forgotten me?
Will I ever see what I’m hoping for?
Scripture Speaks in the Silence
God’s people have always known the tension of waiting:
“Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!”— Psalm 27:14
And again,
“The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him.”— Lamentations 3:25
Waiting isn’t a failure of faith. It’s the soil where faith grows deep roots.
Restless Rest vs. Restful Waiting
It’s easy to confuse waiting with complacency. We fill the silence with busyness and noise, convincing ourselves action equals progress. But sometimes our greatest act of trust is simply to rest—to let our hands unclench and our hearts breathe:
Morning breath prayers before the world wakes
Quiet cups of tea, watching sparrows perch expectantly
Scripture memorized in the stillness, not just read
Soft sighs of surrender, “Your timing, not mine.”
These small rhythms remind us that rest and waiting are not enemies—but companions.
Grace in the Pause
The sparrow doesn’t judge the long day of emptiness. It waits in the branches, trusting crumbs will come. In the same way, we can learn to dwell in God’s presence—quiet, expectant, held. Our waiting isn’t wasted. It’s preparing us for the next lift, the next song of hope.
So if you’re in a season of unanswered prayers or empty feeders, remember:
You are not alone in the silence.
God’s grace is just as present in the pause as in the provision.
Your waiting is shaping you for wings you haven’t yet used.
Welcome back to The Rusted Sparrow.
May your waiting be worship, and your rest be rooted in His faithfulness.
— Brianne





Comments