Rich Watson resides in Hope Mills, North Carolina, near Fort Bragg. He served for 20 years in the United States Air Force and holds an educational background in psychology, education, and the social sciences. He has been happily married for over 25 years and is the father of four children, along with a son-in-law, daughter-in-law, and one awesome granddaughter. Since retiring from the military, Rich has worked in the mental health department of a veteran service organization, where he and his team facilitate resiliency based retreats for individuals, couples, and families. A convert to the Church in 1996, Rich has served in a variety of leadership callings across multiple wards and branches, thanks in part to frequent military moves. These include ward mission leader, elders quorum president, high priest group leader, Young Men presidency, branch president, bishopric, and high council. He has also shared his insights in a Leading Saints Podcast, “Ministering to Veterans in Your Ward.”
Enter Rich…
As I wrestled with the concept for this article, a simple phrase kept repeating in my mind: “What to do when faith doesn’t fix things fast.” Although I ultimately chose not to use it, that phrase captured the heart of this topic: our very human desire for relief now. In a world built on instant answers, immediate gratification, and quick solutions, waiting on God’s timing can feel exhausting, even unsettling.
The truth is this: faith has never been defined by how quickly God answers prayers, removes pain, or calms our fears. Rather, our faith in Him is revealed by how deeply we learn to stay with Him when relief is delayed and the answer is simply to wait. This article is not about cheerful endurance, which can feel like too much to ask in long seasons of suffering. Instead, it is about honest endurance and the quiet patience required to trust God in the middle of the story.
The hardest kind of faith isn’t believing God can act, it’s trusting Him when He chooses not to act yet.
Most of us don’t struggle with faith at the beginning of a trial, and we don’t struggle as much when relief finally comes. The real tension lives in between. It’s the long middle where prayers are still offered, effort is still being made, and yet nothing seems to change. That middle space, the place without clarity, without resolution, and without a timeline, is where patience is most severely tested. And it’s also where faith is often misunderstood.
The Middle Is the Hardest Part
The middle of the story, or a trial, is rarely dramatic in outward ways, but it is deeply tiring. It’s the time and place where nothing is obviously falling apart, yet nothing is being resolved. Life continues, faith continues, and effort continues, but relief or finality seem to remain just out of reach.
The middle often looks like this:
- Prayers that are sincere and consistent, yet unanswered
- Healing that doesn’t come, or comes only partially
- Anxiety that lingers long after we’ve prayed for peace
- Family struggles that stretch not into months, but into years
- Callings that don’t get easier with time, even when we are trying to serve faithfully
None of these mean that faith is absent. In fact, these experiences often exist precisely because faith is present, not because something has gone wrong. We keep praying because we believe. We keep showing up because we trust God’s character, even when we don’t understand His timing.
Scriptures are filled with examples of faithful people living in the middle of the story, long before relief arrived. Joseph was not immediately delivered from prison. Israel wandered for decades before entering the promised land. Nephi received direction to build a ship, but not a blueprint or a timeline.
These were not moments of heavenly absence; rather they were seasons of personal and heavenly formation. He was still present, still guiding, still shaping, even when outcomes were delayed. The scriptures don’t rush past these middles, and neither should we.
Gethsemane and the Sacred Middle
Nowhere is this more evident than in Gethsemane. Before the resurrection, before the empty tomb, before the victory, there was a long night where relief did not come quickly. Christ prayed earnestly for another way. He asked for the cup to pass. And yet, He remained.
Gethsemane teaches us that faithful waiting does not mean the absence of anguish. The Savior did not rush His suffering, suppress His pain, or bypass the process. He stayed present with the Father in the middle of it. His patience was not passive resignation, it was active trust, offered one prayer, one step, one moment at a time.
Gethsemane reminds us that waiting is not wasted time when God is still at work
What Faith Looks Like in the Middle
When the story isn’t moving and answers aren’t coming, faith is rarely loud or impressive. More often, it shows up quietly in the way we choose to live, even when we don’t understand what God is doing. These practices are not meant to hurry relief or force outcomes. They are simply ways to stay grounded, connected, and faithful while we wait.
- Choosing Active Waiting, Not Passive Withdrawal – Faith in the middle often means resisting the urge to completely disengage from life. Active waiting is not about staying busy to avoid pain; it’s about continuing to participate in meaningful, life-giving things even while uncertainty remains. This might look like serving where you can, maintaining healthy routines, or simply caring for yourself and your family the best you’re able. These small acts don’t erase the waiting, but they keep it from consuming everything.
- Moving Forward Without Full Clarity – There are instances when God gives us enough light and guidance for the next step, but not the full picture. Faith in the middle is often found in taking that next step anyway. It’s choosing to move forward in goodness, obedience, and trust even when answers feel incomplete. Progress in these seasons is rarely remarkable, however, this timeframe is measured in faithfulness, not outcomes.
- Seeking Understanding Without Obsession – Another expression of faith is learning what we can about our situation, whether that means gaining insight into a medical condition, a mental health concern, a family dynamic, or a spiritual struggle. Knowledge can reduce fear and anxiety and bring insight and perspective. At the same time, faith invites us to learn without becoming consumed, while trusting that understanding has limits and that His care extends beyond what we can explain or control.
- Allowing Safe Voices to Walk with You – Faith in the middle was never meant to be worked through in isolation. Seeking guidance from trusted church members, whether leaders or fellow Saints, can provide clarity, comfort, and perspective. The key to this is discernment: choose people who are grounded, compassionate, and capable of listening without rushing you toward answers. It doesn’t need to be someone with a title, but it should be someone who points you toward Christ rather than fueling fear, gossip, or cynicism.
While none of these practices guarantee quick relief, together they can help us remain faithful and whole while the story is still unfolding. Sometimes the most meaningful progress we make in the middle comes through small steps, not leaps and bounds.
Still in the Story
If you find yourself still waiting, still praying, still hoping for relief that hasn’t come yet, it doesn’t mean you are behind or doing something wrong. It means you are human, and it means you are still in the story. He has never abandoned people in the middle, even when it feels quiet, repetitive, or unresolved.
One of the quiet lies we sometimes believe is that faithful people move quickly from struggle to resolution. Scripture, however, tells a different story. God often works slowly, and over time. He forms more than He fixes, and He shapes more than He rushes. And while that can be difficult to accept, it reminds us that delay is not the same as denial, and silence is not the same as absence.
Patience in the middle of the story does not require perfection. It does not demand constant optimism or emotional certainty. It asks only that we stay, that we continue to turn toward Him even when answers are incomplete and outcomes remain unclear. Staying is not weakness, staying is faith.
If today looks like another ordinary day of waiting, another prayer offered without resolution, another step taken without clarity, you are not behind. You are still in the story. You are still walking with a Savior who understands waiting from the inside, from Gethsemane.
Even if the story does not yet read the way you hoped, it is still being written by a faithful Author who has never stopped working, even now.
