Why Does Waiting Feel So Long?

Perhaps the journey feels slower because we are so focused on arriving than becoming.

Another day, another what? Word.

Have you ever noticed that getting somewhere often feels longer than coming back?

Picture this: the drive to your destination takes four hours, yet the drive back home, despite taking the exact same amount of time, somehow feels noticeably shorter.

Interestingly enough, there is an actual explanation for this. Psychologists call it the “return trip effect.” On the way to a destination, everything feels slower because you are anticipating arrival. You have expectations attached to the journey. Maybe people are waiting for you. Maybe you planned your day around arriving at a certain time. You are watching the clock, checking the GPS, calculating how much longer it is left.

On the way back, however, the route is already familiar. You know what to expect. You are less focused on the time, less anxious about arrival, and because of that, the journey feels shorter.

As I reflected on that recently while sitting in God’s presence, I realized how much it mirrors certain seasons of life, especially seasons of waiting. Sometimes, while you are living through them, they feel endless. Yet once you are on the other side, looking back changes your perspective entirely.

Almost immediately, my mind went to the season after finishing grad school.

August 2024 feels both far away and strangely close at the same time. My final semester had just ended, and although graduation would officially come in October, that in-between season had already begun. I had moved back home, was actively applying for jobs, and found myself sitting with a level of uncertainty I had not expected.

Unsurprisingly, questions kept rising to the surface, questions I know many people in waiting seasons have asked before:

Why is this taking so long?

What is the point of the waiting?

God, I see it happening to others, when will it be my turn?

At the time, one year felt enormous. Twelve months. Fifty-two weeks. So much uncertainty packed into what felt like such a long stretch of time.

From September 2024, when I seriously began applying for jobs after returning home, to September 2025, when I finally received an offer for the full-time role I currently have, the process felt so long while I was living through it.

Looking back now, though, that same season suddenly feels much shorter. The very year that once felt painfully slow now feels like it passed in the blink of an eye.

Even in the midst of uncertainty, there were still moments of joy woven throughout that season. A part-time job. Time spent with family. Unexpected opportunities. Eventually, interviews came, and little by little, doors began to open.

In many ways, I think that is what waiting with God can feel like sometimes.

While you are in it, the process feels long. Every day feels stretched out because your eyes are fixed on arrival. You are measuring time constantly. You are calculating how much longer it might take before the promise, the breakthrough, the opportunity, or the answer finally comes.

At the same time, part of the difficulty of waiting is realizing that God is often more concerned with who we are becoming in the process than simply getting us to the destination.

After all, we hear people say all the time, “It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey,” and as cliché as it may sound, there is truth in it. Journeys shape people. Waiting exposes what is in us. It teaches dependence, patience, trust, endurance, and surrender in ways instant answers never could.

Eventually, there comes a moment where you look back and realize God was moving the entire time.

In fact, Ecclesiastes reminds us that:

Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 [NLT]

That verse carries so much depth because it captures both the tension and the comfort of being human. On one hand, God places eternity in our hearts, meaning we naturally long for meaning, purpose, understanding, and fulfillment beyond what we can immediately see. We desire clarity. We want to know how everything will unfold. At the same time, we are reminded that we cannot fully comprehend God’s plan from beginning to end. There will always be parts of the story hidden from us.

Trust is often formed in the spaces where we do not have all the answers. If we could see every detail ahead of time, faith would not require surrender. In His wisdom, God allows us to walk through seasons one step at a time, learning to trust that even when life feels delayed, uncertain, or unfinished, He is still making everything beautiful in its proper time.

That reality can be difficult because we experience time through chronos, calendars, deadlines, months passing, birthdays approaching, and another year gone. God, however, exists outside of time altogether.

Scripture says:

But you must not forget this one thing, dear friends: A day is like a thousand years to the Lord, and a thousand years is like a day.

2 Peter 3:8 [NLT]

What feels unbearably long to us is still fully held within His sovereignty.

Of course, that does not suddenly make waiting easy. Waiting can still feel painful, frustrating, and deeply confusing. Some days, it feels heavy enough to bring you to tears. Other days, you do not even want to hear “it will happen when you least expect it,” because the waiting itself feels exhausting.

Even so, part of faith is trusting that one day, perspective will change.

One day, you may look back on the very season that felt endless and say, “Wow… it went by fast.”

Not because the waiting was imaginary, but because God was present in every part of the journey, even when it did not feel like movement.

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And truthfully, I have not fully arrived at that place yet either.

Like the Israelites journeying toward the promised land, I am still navigating my own seasons of becoming. There are still prayers I am waiting on, promises I am trusting God with, and moments where the process feels longer than I would like.

Even while I am on the journey, I can recognize something I could not fully see before: every season has been shaping me into someone stronger, wiser, more dependent on God, and more refined than I was.

The waiting has not been wasted.

So if you are in a season where time feels painfully slow, where the promise feels distant, or where you are quietly asking God, “When will it finally happen?” this is my encouragement to you:

Do not despise the season you are in simply because you have not reached the destination yet.

After all, the journey is often what gives the story its depth. It is where character is formed, faith is refined, and dependence on God is learned in ways the destination alone never could. Even in seasons where movement feels invisible, God is still at work, confidently shaping and strengthening you through the waiting.

In many ways, that may be why Scripture says:

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.

Philippians 1:6

Maybe the ultimate destination was never meant to be a job, a milestone, a relationship, or even the fulfillment of a particular desire. Perhaps the greater hope set before us has always been Christ Himself and the ongoing work He is doing within us until His return.

Because until Christ returns, the journey continues.

Through every season, there will always be another area where faith is stretched and another invitation to trust God more deeply. Through it all, however, He remains committed to finishing the work He started in us. So take heart knowing that every step of the journey is held securely in His hands.

Until next time, for another day, another word!

With love,

Eunice

Don’t you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win!
1 Corinthians 9:24