But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. - Isaiah 40:31 (KJV)
Waiting is perhaps the most unnatural discipline for the human heart. Everything within us resists it. We live in an age of instant everything: instant messages, instant meals, instant solutions. Yet here, tucked into one of Scripture’s most soaring passages, God calls us to wait.
But this isn’t passive waiting, like sitting in a doctor’s office thumbing through old magazines. The Hebrew word translated “wait” carries the sense of twisting or stretching, like the tension in a rope being woven together. It’s active, expectant, purposeful waiting - the kind that actually strengthens us in the process.
Notice the progression Isaiah describes: mounting up with wings, running without weariness, walking without fainting. We might expect the order to be reversed — first walking, then running, then soaring. But God’s economy often inverts our expectations.
The spectacular moments of soaring on eagle’s wings are glorious but brief. Most of life isn’t lived in the heights of spiritual ecstasy or dramatic victories. Most of life is walking — one ordinary step after another, day after day, year after year. And it’s in this daily walking where we most need supernatural strength.
Consider the context of Isaiah’s promise. Israel was in exile, wondering if God had forgotten them. They were weary from waiting, exhausted from hoping, tempted to believe their strength was gone forever. Into this darkness, God speaks: “Have you not known? Have you not heard?” (v. 28). He reminds them that the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth, neither faints nor grows weary.
This is the source of our renewed strength—not our own reserves, not our determination, not our spiritual disciplines, but the inexhaustible strength of the One who measures the waters in the hollow of His hand and marks off the heavens with the span of His fingers (v. 12).
When we wait upon the Lord, we’re not just killing time until He acts. We’re being woven together with Him, our weakness intertwined with His strength. Like eagles that ride the thermal currents rather than frantically flapping their wings, we learn to rest on the updrafts of His grace.
The promise isn’t that we’ll never grow tired — it’s that our strength will be renewed. Not replaced, but renewed, like the dawn that comes faithfully after every night, like the spring that follows every winter. God doesn’t promise to eliminate our need for strength; He promises to be our strength in our need.
What makes you weary today? Where do you feel the weight of walking, step after ordinary step, with no spectacular victories in sight? Perhaps you’re caring for aging parents, struggling through a difficult marriage, battling chronic illness, or simply facing the accumulated fatigue of faithful living in a fallen world.
The invitation stands: wait upon the Lord. Not because waiting is easy, but because the One we wait for is worthy. Not because the process is pleasant, but because the promise is sure. Those who wait upon the Lord — not those who are naturally strong, not those who have life figured out, not those who never struggle — but those who wait, they shall renew their strength.
And in God’s beautiful paradox, it’s often in our seasons of waiting that we discover we can soar.
Prayer: Lord, I confess my impatience and my tendency to rely on my own diminishing strength. Teach me the discipline of waiting upon You. In my weariness, be my strength. In my running, be my endurance. In my daily walking, be my sustaining grace. Help me to rest in Your timing and trust in Your inexhaustible power. Renew my strength according to Your promise. Amen.
Reflection: What area of your life requires “walking without fainting” right now? How might God be using this season of waiting to weave your weakness together with His strength? What would it look like to actively wait upon the Lord in your current circumstances?