I recently read the story in John 5 again. You know the one about the sick man waiting by the pool of Bethesda. This guy had been sick for 38 years, sitting by this pool where an angel would come and stir the water. Whoever got in first when the water moved would be healed.
But he was at a disadvantage. This man couldn’t get himself into the water. He had no friends or family to help him. Nobody was willing to carry him to the pool when the moment came. For 38 years, he watched others receive their healing while he remained stuck in the same spot.
Then one day, Jesus walked by and saw him there. Jesus knew how long he’d been waiting and understood his impossible situation. When Jesus asked if he wanted to be healed, the man started explaining his problem. “I have no one to help me into the pool,” he said.
Then Jesus told the man to get up, pick up his mat, and walk. No pool. No angel stirring the water. No human helpers. The man was instantly healed by God’s grace alone.
My Own Pool
I’ve been living my own version of this story for what feels like forever. I’ve been dreaming of working for myself, of finding that opportunity or adventure that excites me. Something that would allow me to provide for my family while being my own boss. But every time I look around, I see the same problem the man at the pool had.
I don’t know anybody who can open doors for me. I don’t have connections in high places or friends willing to give me the break I need. I’ve spent so much time complaining about not having the right network, not knowing the right people, and not having anyone to help me reach my own version of that healing pool.
But then I read this story again. This man waited 38 years for someone to help him reach the water, but the moment he met Jesus, everything changed. The pool didn’t matter anymore. The angel stirring the water didn’t matter. Other people’s help didn’t matter. He only needed God.
My excuses about not knowing anyone to give me opportunities, my frustration about not having friends to help me along, none of that matters. I only need God.
The Season of Waiting
Right now I’m in a waiting season. I’ve taken concrete steps before and tried to make things happen on my own, but it never brought me to a place where I felt content. This time is different. This time, I’m waiting for God to instruct me, just as He instructed that man to get up and walk.
I’m praying and waiting for His guidance. My brain feels void of ideas, and I’ve reached a place where I genuinely believe there’s nothing I can do. I need a miracle. I’m waiting for God to open a door that only He can open.
It’s not easy, though. I won’t lie about that. I’m anxious most days. I feel desperate and afraid and restless. Sometimes I feel completely alone. Some days I am completely alone. Every day, I have to remind myself that God has come through for me before and that He has a plan for me even now. There are days when these reminders are numerous.
The questioning gets to me, too. I love God and I know He’s good, but I struggle with understanding why these seasons of waiting have to drag out so long. Why does it feel like He takes so long to act when He can do anything immediately? I know time doesn’t exist for God the way it does for us, but living in that tension is hard.
The guilt about having these questions might be the worst part. I’ve been through difficult times before and have seen God bring me through them. It breaks my heart that I don’t seem to learn how to trust Him completely the next time difficulties come around. I often think about how I would feel if my kids didn’t trust me, and yet here I am, doubting my Father.
The Cycle
My current circumstance overwhelms my mind. It doesn’t take much for panic to set in daily, at any time of the day. Then, I have to consciously remind myself that God is in control and that He promises me that everything will work out. The fear doesn’t disappear, and it takes real effort to redirect my thoughts back to God. And it comes in cycles. Fear creeps in, I fight back with reminders of God’s goodness, I find some peace for a while, then the fear returns, and we start all over again.
I’ve come to realize this might be the point, though. Each time I go through this cycle, each time I choose to remember God’s faithfulness over my fears, my faith gets a little stronger. It’s like exercising a muscle. I wish I could believe completely once and be done with it, but that’s not how it seems to work.
Lately, everything feels more intense. The realities of life make the desperation grow. I’m more desperate than ever for God to reveal Himself to me.
What I’m Learning
Despite the uncertainties, this season is teaching me things I couldn’t learn any other way. I’m developing real patience, the kind that comes from having no choice but to wait. This isn’t surface-level patience. This is deep, tested patience from months of uncertainty with no clear end in sight. I trust this kind of patience will serve me well in whatever God has planned.
I’m also learning to draw strength from the people closest to me, my wife and my kids. I am developing a deeper appreciation for their presence and understanding. I share my life with them. I am fully aware that my decisions impact them. And yet they allow me to wait in silence.
And I’m learning to rely on God in ways I never had to before. I can see that depending on God for opportunities, wisdom, and guidance will set me up for success in ways that forcing something on my own never could. That’s why I want to wait on Him. I don’t want to try again to push through doors that weren’t ready to open.
The door God opens will come as a miracle. What’s impossible for me is possible for Him, and when it comes, I’ll know. I’m ready to receive it, however God brings it.
For When Doubt Creeps Back In
I’m writing this as much for future me as for anyone else reading it. When the doubt comes back and the waiting feels unbearable, I want to remember what I learned from that man at the pool.
He waited 38 years. Nobody helped him. Not even the systems that were supposed to provide healing worked for him. But the moment he encountered Jesus, everything changed instantly. Nothing else was required.
Just as he did, I now know that I only need God. When my moment comes, when God gives the instruction, I’ll be ready to respond. Until then, I’m learning to trust that the waiting itself has purpose, that this season is developing something in me that I’ll need for whatever comes next.
It’s easy to forget that God’s timing is perfect, even when it doesn’t feel perfect to me. The pool wasn’t the answer for that man. The friends and connections I thought I needed might not be the answer for me. God has a better way. He’s preparing the opportunity, and He’s preparing me for that moment.
Until then, I will choose to wait and trust. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
The breakthrough is coming. I believe.