“And, behold, there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon; and the same man… was waiting for the consolation of Israel: and the Holy Ghost was upon him.” – Luke 2:25

Today, I was at a fast-food restaurant for a quick lunch.

Barely a minute after taking my seat, another customer came in and sat opposite my table.

No sooner had he settled down than his order arrived!

I put my phone down and called the waitress.

“Nyabo, I made my order first but you’re serving those who have come later. Why”? I asked.

“It’s coming; please wait a bit,” she replied politely.

At that very moment, the Holy Spirit reminded me of Simeon.

Our meditation today says the old man “was waiting.”

In our contemporary rush, waiting feels like a thief, stealing our minutes and hoarding our joy.

Yet, day after day, year after year, decade after decade, Simeon showed up.

Not demanding. Not despairing. Simply waiting.

Today, this kind of waiting feels foreign to us.

We live in the age of instant everything – instant coffee, instant answers, instant validation, instant connection, instant downloads.

A ten-second delay feels like a crisis. We’ve forgotten that God’s silence is not His absence, and that His delays are not His denials.

But Simeon understood what we’re still learning: waiting is not wasting time; it’s working with God.

The Hebrew prophets knew this truth well.

Isaiah declared, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles.”

The psalmist echoed, “Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart.”

David said; “I waited patiently for Lord.”

These aren’t empty promises. They’re divine invitations into a sacred space where our souls are refined and our spirits replenished.

And when you wait well, your Simeon moment will eventually arrive, however long it might take.

Simeon’s waiting wasn’t passive idleness. It was active trust – a spiritual discipline that tuned his heart to heaven’s frequency.

While others grew weary or walked away, he remained anchored.

And because he waited well, he was ready; his answer did not come as a surprise.

When Mary and Joseph brought the infant Jesus to the temple, Simeon recognized what others missed. He held the Light of the World in his trembling arms and proclaimed, “Lord, now let your servant depart in peace.”

His decades of faithful waiting culminated in a single, glorious moment –  one that will be read about for generations.

Perhaps you’re in a season of waiting today. Waiting for healing. Waiting for provision or a job.

Waiting for a prodigal child to come home.

Waiting for doors to open or storms to pass.

The wait feels long, and your heart grows heavy.

Seeing others receive their orders ahead of you makes you feel desperate.

Take courage from Simeon. Your waiting is not God’s oversight; it’s your invitation.

In the quiet pause, the Holy Spirit does His deepest work.

He builds character, strengthens faith, and prepares you to recognize God’s movement when it comes.

Simeon’s life teaches us that waiting is an act of worship.

It is a way of saying, “Lord, I trust Your calendar more than my own.”

When we wait patiently, we are declaring that God is sovereign and that His “consolation” is worth every second of the delay.

As someone aptly put it, waiting is not merely the absence of movement; it is the presence of peace.

It is the gardener who plants the Hass avocado seedlings and holds his peace.

Don’t despise the delay. Sanctify it. Fill it with prayer, with Scripture, with quiet trust.

Like Simeon, stay at your post. Keep your heart open.

The consolation you’re longing for is already on the way.

And here’s the promise that sustained Simeon and will sustain you: those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.

Not through hurrying.

Not through striving.

But through the sacred, Spirit-filled act of patient expectancy.

To wait patiently is to wait well, beloved.

And when you wait well, your Simeon moment will eventually arrive, however long it might take.