Living in the In-Between

There is a strange, quiet space that exists every year, the week between Christmas and New Year’s. The presents have been opened, the leftovers are still in the fridge, the carols fade from playlists, and yet the fresh energy of a new year hasn’t quite arrived. It’s what I call the in-between. It’s even difficult to know what day it is, in the in between.

After the high of Christmas the anticipation, the gatherings, the worship services, the reminders that God became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14) we suddenly find ourselves waiting again. Waiting for routines to restart. Waiting for vision to sharpen. Waiting for motivation to return. Waiting for the calendar to turn.

This in-between can feel awkward, even uncomfortable. We’re no longer celebrating, but we’re not yet moving forward. And yet, Scripture shows us again and again that God does some of His deepest work in waiting seasons.

The Significant Waits in Life

So much of life is lived in waiting. To be honest, I’m really not very good at it. I always give myself the excuse that patience isn’t the fruit I’m working on this year. Love is so much more important isn’t it? If you are like me, you just want to take those moments by the reigns and make something happen.

For many young adults, waiting for “the one” can feel like an eternity. The silence stretches on, and hope begins to ache. “There is no one for me” is often not a statement of truth, but the quiet cry of a heart worn down by hope deferred.

We wait during pregnancy when something miraculous is happening beneath the surface, even though we can’t yet see the outcome at first.

We wait for diagnoses sitting between tests and results, answers and uncertainty. Those days can feel long and heavy, filled with fear and unanswered questions. I remember sitting in a doctors office and thinking that my life was about to change forever. Thankfully the results were much better than I had anticipated in that waiting moment.

We wait in grief after loss, when life no longer looks the way it once did, and the future feels unfamiliar. Healing does not happen on demand; it unfolds slowly.

We wait for direction wondering if we should stay or go, say yes or no, step out or hold back. Am I going to get that job, do I have to move, is my PR coming?

Our Nine Month Wait

Many years ago, we found ourselves in a looong season of waiting for a job opportunity. We had just returned to Canada from England, and Peter was searching for work. Because of a painful experience with a pastor in our past, our hearts were hesitant to step back into pastoral ministry. We were praying, hoping, really for a role in a para church organization instead.

Peter applied for countless positions. Again and again, the response was the same: You’re overqualified. Each rejection felt confusing and disheartening, especially when we were simply asking God for clarity and provision.

For nine long months, we lived in that uncomfortable, uncertain space: the in-between. It was brutal. Faith felt stretched thin. Hope wavered. We questioned what God was doing and whether we had missed His voice altogether.

The breakthrough came not with another application, but with surrender. When we finally laid down our preferences, fears, and expectations and prayed, “God, we will do whatever You want,” everything shifted.

Within two days, Peter was offered a pastoring position, one we never would have chosen for ourselves, but one that became life-changing. What felt like a delay was actually divine preparation, and the in-between became the place where God reshaped our hearts and redirected our future.

The waiting is often brutal. We wait for God’s timing to match our longing. But His schedule is often different from ours.

Sometimes we can feel like Abraham and Sarah, who waited years for the child God had promised (Genesis 21). Or Joseph, who waited through betrayal and imprisonment before seeing God’s plan fulfilled (Genesis 37–41).

Waiting is not accidental in the Kingdom of God. He is at work.

Psalm 46:10 reminds us, “Be still, and know that I am God.” Stillness is rarely chosen; it is usually imposed. And the week after Christmas often imposes stillness upon us whether we like it or not. The calendar lightens. The urgency softens. The noise fades.

In those moments, God is not absent, He is attentive. Elijah didn’t hear God in the wind, earthquake, or fire, but in a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–12). The whisper came after the drama, not during it.

Waiting creates space. Space to listen. Space to reflect. Space for God to reveal what busyness often drowns out.

Why We Wait

Waiting is rarely accidental in the economy of God. Scripture is filled with people who waited sometimes longer than made sense to them.

• Abraham waited for a promised son (Genesis 21).
• Joseph waited through betrayal and imprisonment before promotion (Genesis 37–41).
• Israel waited 400 years between prophetic words.
• The disciples waited in an upper room for the promised Holy Spirit (Acts 1:4).

Waiting is often God’s classroom.

Romans 5:3–4 tells us, “We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” Waiting produces perseverance and perseverance produces maturity.

Sometimes God delays because we are not yet ready to carry what we’re asking for. Sometimes the promise is ready, but our character is still forming. Waiting teaches us patience, yes but also trust, humility, dependence, and surrender.

Isaiah 40:31 promises, “But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength.” Notice that waiting isn’t passive resignation; it is active reliance. Waiting on God is choosing trust over control.

The Gift of the In-Between

The in-between is not wasted time; it is formative time.

In this week between Christmas and New Year’s, many of us feel emotionally full but maybe spiritually tired. We’ve poured out for family, for ministry, for others. And now there is little left to give.

But exhaustion doesn’t disqualify us from God’s presence. It often invites it.

Jesus Himself embraced in-between moments. After feeding crowds and performing miracles, He withdrew to lonely places to pray (Luke 5:16). He understood the rhythm of pouring out and pulling back. What a lesson that is for us.

This quiet week invites us to do the same. To rest. To reflect. To let God minister to us.

A Pastoral Perspective on the “Flatter” Sunday

Pastors know this week well. The final Sunday of December is often… flatter. Attendance slightly dips. Energy wanes. People are tired emotionally, financially, socially. They show up, but they’re in-between.

And that’s okay.

Not every Sunday needs to feel like Easter or Christmas. Faithfulness is not measured by fireworks. Sometimes simply showing up is an act of worship.

Galatians 6:9 encourages us, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Even tired obedience matters. Even quiet worship counts.

The in-between Sunday reminds us that church is not just about momentum it’s about faithfulness. God meets us even when the room feels subdued and the singing feels softer.

Looking Ahead with Freshness

The beauty of the in-between is that it doesn’t last forever. A new year is coming fresh pages, new mercies, renewed vision.

Lamentations 3:22–23 declares, “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

As the calendar turns, God is not asking us to sprint forward fueled by pressure. He invites us to step into the new year grounded, rested, and attentive to His voice.

This waiting week allows us to carry lessons forward instead of dragging exhaustion with us.

Embracing the Space Between

If you find yourself in the in-between unsure, tired, reflective, or waiting know this: God is not behind schedule. He is often most intentional in the pauses. Sometimes after a pause, there’s a suddenly – that’s God at work.

What feels like delay may be preparation.
What feels quiet may be holy stillness.
What feels unproductive may be deeply formative.

So breathe in this space. Let God speak. Let patience grow. Let strength renew.

Because the same God who met us in a manger will meet us in the waiting and He will walk with us into whatever the new year holds.