The Tension In The Waiting

By law and by craft, whiskey has to age in oak barrels. Oak isn’t just storage, it’s transformation. Oak bends without breaking, and when charred with fire, it cracks open and caramelizes sugars that the spirit draws out over time.

And the whiskey doesn’t just sit in the barrel. It breathes with the seasons. In the heat, it expands into the oak. In the cold, it contracts back out, carrying with it flavor, sweetness, spice, and depth.

Without that breathing, whiskey would stay pale, sharp, and unfinished.

Sometimes, even after years in oak, the process still isn’t done. A whiskey might be moved into a second barrel like one that once held Port wine for further refinement. That finishing doesn’t erase what came before. It builds on it. It layers in something rare and unique.

Waiting, even when it looks silent, is active. The barrel is working. The breathing is working. The waiting is working.

The Tension of Waiting

Have you ever been in that kind of season?

You’ve done the work, made the move, prepared as best you can… and now all that’s left is waiting.

Or maybe you’re still waiting to start. Waiting for courage, a green light, or for something to shift.

Either way, the waiting carries weight. The silence can feel deafening. The delay can feel like failure or idling in place. And the questions creep in:

• Did I mishear what I was supposed to do?

• Am I even capable of what I’m waiting for?

• What if I’m not enough when the opportunity comes?

The tension we’re talking about is the waiting itself. It might be waiting to start. Waiting for results. Waiting on clarity, on healing, or on God’s timing.

Whatever form it takes, waiting feels empty. But like whiskey breathing in the barrel, it’s not. Something is happening.

Every season, hot or cold, active or still, is drawing something new out of you.

Our Family’s Season of Waiting

We’re living this right now as a family.

Earlier this year, my wife made the decision to leave her job of 29 years, on her own terms. She knew corporate America no longer aligned with her passion. What she really cares about is serving others, working with nonprofits, and volunteering her time to make a difference.

That desire for alignment with her true self and what she was created to do grew stronger than the comfort of staying put. So she stepped into this season - not of immediate answers, but of waiting.

The job market has been rough, and doubts come with that. There are moments when it would be easier to just take another job and get back into it. But that would be like cracking open the barrel too soon: something sharp and unfinished, short of its intended purpose.

Instead, we’re trusting the breathing of the process. Waiting, breathing, and letting the season do its work.

The Four Postures of Waiting

What I’ve found - in my family and with my clients - is that waiting isn’t wasted. It’s formative. And how we posture ourselves in it makes all the difference.

Here are four postures that help us breathe with the season:

1. Patience. Resist the urge to crack the barrel open too soon. Rushing doesn’t give you more, it gives you something unfinished. Patience allows depth to form.
   
   

2. Presence. Be in this season, not just wishing it away. Notice what’s being revealed right now - the relationships, lessons, or truths you might miss if you only look to the future.
   
   

3. Perspective. Waiting can feel empty, but it’s not. From the outside, the barrel looks like it’s just sitting there doing nothing, but there is transformation happening inside. Perspective shifts the waiting from wasted time to formative time.
   
   

4. Preparation. Use the waiting to get ready for what’s next. Strengthen your skills, clarify your vision, align with your mission. Then, when the right time comes, you’re not scrambling — you’re ready.

These four postures won’t remove the tension of waiting. But they will shape us through it.

Turning Waiting Into Formation

Waiting doesn’t waste you. It shapes you. Each season, whether it feels like fire, silence, or simply breathing in and out, is preparing you for what’s next. And when the time finally comes, you won’t just be ready to step forward, you’ll be ready to step into significance.

Remember, Clarity isn’t found. It’s crafted.