Waiting On A Wish

There is a line from a song that has been sitting in my heart lately: “I close my eyes and see the girl I’m meant to be. Is she a part of me I’ve yet to find?” The older I get, the more those words resonate with me.

When we are young, we often imagine who we will become. We dream without limits. We believe anything is possible. We see our future through innocent eyes, assuming that life will unfold exactly as we planned. We picture careers, families, adventures, and accomplishments, rarely considering how many twists and turns life might place in our path.

Then life happens.

There are seasons that shape us and seasons that break us. There are victories we celebrate and losses we never expected. There are moments when we look in the mirror and barely recognize the person staring back at us because life has taken us places we never intended to go. Responsibilities grow heavier, circumstances become more complicated, and the future no longer seems quite as predictable as it once did.

Sometimes I wonder what the younger version of me would think if she could see me now. Would she be proud? Would she understand? Would she recognize the strength it took just to keep moving forward? Or would she simply see someone still trying to figure it all out?

For much of my life, I believed becoming the person I was meant to be would happen all at once. I imagined there would be a moment when everything would finally make sense. A moment when confidence would replace doubt, certainty would replace fear, and I would fully step into the person God intended me to become. I thought growth was something you eventually arrived at, like a destination marked on a map.

Life has taught me something different.

Becoming is not a destination. It is a journey. It is found in ordinary mornings and difficult afternoons. It is built through disappointments, prayers, waiting, perseverance, and faith. It happens quietly while we are busy surviving seasons we never asked for. Most of the time, we do not even realize we are changing until we look back and see how far God has brought us.

Over the past few years, life has looked very different than I imagined. There have been days filled with uncertainty, days when answers were hard to find, and days when exhaustion seemed to outweigh strength. There have been moments when I questioned whether I was enough for the challenges in front of me and whether I could continue carrying responsibilities I never expected to shoulder.

As my husband Tim’s health changed and our family entered the unfamiliar world of PNES, life took a direction neither of us could have anticipated. Suddenly, our days became filled with appointments, research, advocacy, paperwork, caregiving, and navigating a future that no longer felt certain. The plans we once made so easily had to be reconsidered. The routines we depended on changed. The life we thought we knew began to look very different.

At first, I grieved that. I grieved the life I thought we would have. I grieved the certainty I once felt. I grieved the version of myself who seemed carefree and confident. I grieved the loss of plans that no longer seemed possible and the reality that some dreams would need to be reshaped.

But somewhere along the way, God began teaching me something important. The girl I thought I had lost was never really gone. She was growing. She was changing. She was becoming.

The truth is that God is not only interested in where we are going. He is deeply invested in who we are becoming along the way. Every challenge has shaped me. Every disappointment has strengthened me. Every unanswered prayer has taught me to trust Him a little more. Every season of waiting has revealed something about His faithfulness. Looking back, I can see His fingerprints in places where I once saw only confusion. I can see His provision in moments when I felt abandoned. I can see His grace in places where I felt weak. I can see His purpose woven throughout chapters I once wished I could skip.

Maybe that is what waiting on a wish really means. Not standing still. Not wishing life away. Not hoping for some distant version of ourselves to magically appear. Maybe it means trusting that God is already working within us, even when we cannot yet see the finished masterpiece.

Scripture tells us that we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works that He prepared in advance for us to do. That means our story is not random. Our struggles are not wasted. Our growth is not accidental. God is actively shaping us every day, even when we cannot see the results.

Sometimes we want transformation to happen overnight. God often chooses to work through seasons. Sometimes we want answers immediately. God often develops faith through waiting. Sometimes we want the destination. God focuses on the journey because He knows the person we become along the way matters just as much as where we eventually arrive.

I still have dreams. I still have goals. There are still things I hope for and prayers I continue to pray. But I no longer believe that happiness begins when I finally arrive somewhere. I no longer believe that joy is reserved for some future version of my life when everything falls into place.

What if this season matters too? What if God is doing some of His most important work right here in the middle of the waiting? What if the person I am becoming is already emerging through every challenge, every prayer, every act of faith, and every decision to keep moving forward?

When I think about that younger version of myself now, I realize something. She does not need to recognize every detail of my life. She does not need to understand every road I have traveled. She only needs to know that I kept going. That I kept believing. That I kept trusting God when the path was unclear. That I kept choosing hope even when circumstances felt heavy.

Perhaps becoming the person God created us to be is not about finding someone new. Perhaps it is about uncovering who He placed within us all along. Perhaps it is about allowing Him to reveal strengths we never knew we possessed, courage we never thought we would need, and faith that can only be developed through life’s hardest seasons.

So today, if you feel like you are waiting on a wish, waiting for answers, waiting for healing, waiting for direction, or waiting to become the person you long to be, remember that you are not standing still. God is still working. You are still growing. You are still becoming.

Maybe the person you are searching for is closer than you think. Maybe she has been there all along, quietly emerging through every season, every struggle, and every step of faith. And maybe, just maybe, the waiting itself is part of the miracle.