“But they did not have a child, because Elizabeth was barren, and they were both very old.” – Luke 1:7

The conjunction, ‘but,’ really struck me. It’s a tiny but loaded word that joins verse 6 to 7.

“They were righteous in the sight of God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord,” “But …barren.”

Decades of patient waiting and righteous living, relentless ministry, fervent unceasing prayer; but no child.

In ancient Israel, barrenness wasn’t mere heartache; it was public shame, a whispered reproach, a sign of divine disfavor.

Neighbors, relatives and in-laws gossiped. Those who cared gave friendly advice and referrals to specialists.

And as the years rolled into decades and wrinkles grew deeper, hope faded like the morning mist.

“Why does the loving and almighty Father in heaven allow bad things happen to good people?”

It’s a question that pastors dread because the answers are never satisfactory.

Perhaps you carry that label – ‘barren’ from the world. You’ve walked with God for years—praying and going without food for days or weeks, serving in shadows, loving the unlovable.

You’ve mentored, given sacrificially, shared the Gospel far and wide. But there’s a tag attached to you – barren!

Your ministry feels and looks fruitless.

Your hopes have withered to a crisp. Disappointment is creeping in, disillusionment whispers, “Why me?”

Well, Elizabeth’s story flips the script. Her barrenness wasn’t punishment for hidden sin or ‘generational curses’ (as some believed).

Scripture shouts it: “They were blameless”! Yet, this setback was actually God’s setup for something really glorious.

In His own time and at the perfect moment, God breaks silence. Keep praying, serving, trusting.

Right in the middle of a culture that prized children as proof of blessing, and coming from a family of priests that expected sons to carry on the ministry to the next generation, their childlessness amplified the miracle to come.

When human odds hit zero— many years into menopause, too old to have children – God stepped in. An angel visits Zechariah in the temple: “Your prayer has been heard” (verse 13).

Elizabeth conceives John the Baptist, the fiery prophet who was to baptise Jesus and eventually usher Him into the ministry.

What looked like failure was actually divine preparation.

Decades of waiting weren’t wasted; they were the refining period for world-changing impact.

This echoes Scripture’s pattern. Sarah, Rebekah, Rachel, Hannah—all barren, all faithful, all precursors to miracles.

Sarah births Isaac at 90, launching nations. Hannah’s Samuel anointed kings.

What looks like barrenness precedes breakthrough, underscoring God’s sovereignty: He brings life from nothing, turns shame to song.

Romans 8:28 rings true: For those who love God and are called according to His purpose, “All things work together for good.”

Hold fast, you who was called barren; fruitfulness is coming, glorious and God-given.

Your “barren” season? It’s sacred soil. God sees your tears, counts your prayers, honors your hidden obedience.

The world chases quick wins—visible success, instant fruit. But God sometimes plays the long game.

His timing magnifies His power, ensuring no flesh can steal the credit and glory in His presence.

Hang in there. Like Elizabeth, you’re defined by your blameless walk, not your season of barrenness.

God delights in your integrity, even when no one applauds. It’s the foundation for His extraordinary results.

The Bible says “deferred hope sickens the heart (Proverbs 13:12), but it’s God’s gym for trust. When human effort exhausts, miracles erupt.

John’s birth wasn’t ordinary; it heralded salvation. His name was etched into eternity.

Your harvest could be eternally significant—beyond your wildest dreams.

In His own time and at the perfect moment, God breaks silence. Keep praying, serving, trusting.

The God who numbered your days hasn’t overlooked you.

Hold fast, you who was called barren; fruitfulness is coming, glorious and God-given.