The Modern P31 Woman – Vol. 6 | The Sacred Ground of “Not Yet”

To the Woman in Waiting, this is a love letter to you from a friend waiting with you.

“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.”

— Psalm 130:5

There’s a quiet ache that comes with the in-between.

It’s hard to name sometimes, but you feel it.

You feel it in the car on the way to another baby shower. You feel it when you’re helping zip up someone else’s wedding dress, holding your breath to keep the tears from falling. You feel it when you see others thriving in their purpose, but you feel lost on “what’s next”.

You’re genuinely, deeply happy for her. You’re showing up, celebrating, throwing the ribbon-filled confetti. And deep down, there’s this question still lingering with the Lord:

“When will it be my turn?”

Sometimes, no matter how many times you surrender it, the ache resurfaces. Not because you’re ungrateful. Not because you’re bitter. But because… you’re human.

I’ve walked through those seasons, too. Singleness that stretched longer than I thought it would. Moments where I trusted God’s timing with one hand and wiped away tears with the other.

Even now, as I wait to meet multiple of my best friend’s babies, I feel the tension: Joy and grief. Hope and disappointment. Faith and fatigue.

And I’ve learned… waiting well doesn’t mean pretending it doesn’t hurt.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

— Psalm 34:18

Sometimes, the holiest thing you can do is not fake the smile, but to let your grief be an offering. To bring your disappointment into His presence, not hide it from Him. Our God is not offended by your sadness. He’s not disappointed in your longing. He meets you there. Right in the middle of it.

I used to think waiting meant “being patient with a good attitude.”

Now, I believe waiting well means grieving with God instead of apart from Him.

It’s not passive. It’s not hiding behind spiritual language. It’s not dismissing your desires as silly or selfish. It’s sitting with Him in the tension, letting Him tend to the wounds you don’t even have words for.

There’s no formula for this. No checklist to master waiting like a Proverbs 31 woman.

But if she could speak into this, I think she’d tell us:

Waiting is not weakness.

Waiting is where strength is forged.

“Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the days to come.”

— Proverbs 31:25

That kind of laughter? It doesn’t come from a painless life.

It comes from a deeply pruned one.

From knowing the One you’re waiting on is worth the wait.

Because here’s the truth I’ve come back to again and again:

Time waiting with Jesus is never wasted.

It is anointed.

Waiting has taught me how to worship in the quiet. To stop performing for God and start pouring out my heart to Him.

It’s formed me into a woman who doesn’t just want the blessing - more than anything, I want the Blesser.

I want to be a woman who can rejoice in someone else’s miracle while still hoping for her own. Who can hold joy and sorrow in the same hands, and still lift them in praise. And the more I have prayed for that, God has gifted it to me.

It is one of the greatest things He has given me.

…Not a perfect marriage, amazing career or SUV full of healthy babies.

No, this wasn’t on my list of desires.

In my waiting, He has given me a faith and hope to carry me through storms that used to scare me. He has given me an intimacy with Him I have found myself within.

It has taught me this:

Your waiting is just as much a of blessing as your receiving. It is something to marvel in, and be thankful for. Even as you give God your sadness and confusion and frustration, He can give you a peace that surpasses all understanding. He wants to give it to you. Go to Him. Let Him.

He hasn’t forgotten about you. Quite the opposite: He is forging you. Surrender to Him, and the waiting takes on a whole new meaning.

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A Thought to Take With You:

Your waiting can change family lines. It can encourage generations. It can carry a weight of glory you won’t even fully understand until Heaven.

So if you’re in the in-between right now - the not-yet season that feels like a question mark with no answer in sight - you are not forgotten.You are not doing something wrong. You are not falling behind.

You are being formed. In secret. In silence. In surrender. And the fruit of this season? It will be worth it.

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A Prayer for the Waiting Woman:

Jesus,

You know this ache. You know this question. You know this hope. Meet me here, not just with answers, but with Yourself. Help me wait with You, not apart from You. Help me release the timelines and the pressure. Give me courage to celebrate others while still grieving with You. Let my waiting bear fruit. Let it bring You glory. I trust You’re writing something better than I would have chosen. I want what You want for me—nothing less, and nothing more. So I’ll stay here, with willing hands and a soft heart. Waiting. With You. I love you.

Amen.

Still hoping, still trusting, still becoming.

Right here in this holy middle with you.

Xx,

Allee Cyrus