“For the vision awaits its appointed time… though it linger, wait for it : it will certainly come and will not delay.” — Habakkuk 2:3

The Fear of Lack

For years, my deepest fear was that I wouldn’t be able to afford sending my children to college. That fear lingered in the back of my mind, waking me up at night with endless terrifying scenarios.

Then, the day arrived. My eldest son was ready to start college right as the world shut down during the COVID-19 pandemic. I felt I had failed to provide. It broke my heart.

He had received a scholarship offer from an international university in Tokyo. I paid the deposit, full of hope. But when the Delta variant hit, I lost a major project. Suddenly, I couldn't pay my share of the fees. The university was unyielding : they didn't want to hear about my struggles. I lost the deposit, and he lost the opportunity.

The Detour

When the borders closed, I told my son, "Let's try local first and see how things go." But then, a thought came to me: "Why not take Japanese language lessons and get certified? That way, when the time is right, you’ll be ready."

So, he did. For almost a year, he faithfully took classes. But the waiting grew long. His agent eventually told him to have a "Plan B" because the visa backlog was so severe that he likely wouldn't get in.

Resigned to this reality, he applied to a local university here in Jakarta and was accepted. But the payment deadline for the local university was dangerously close to the announcement date for the Japanese visa.

I told him, "Let's wait until the very last minute. If we haven't heard from the agent by the deadline, we proceed with the local university."

The Eleventh Hour

We waited. Just a couple of hours before we were about to transfer the money for the local university, the news came: He got his visa. He was cleared to leave by the end of the month.

Looking back, I am so thankful for that delay. If he had gone to the international school earlier without solid Japanese language skills, he would have struggled to find work. Because he spent those two years mastering the language and eventually entered a local Japanese university, his opportunities multiplied.

Today, he is thriving at school and work. He has even secured a job as a translator for businessmen who can’t speak the language. The delay gave him the advantage of being fluent in both English and Japanese.

The Second Test

Three years later, the restlessness returned. My second child, my daughter, was heading to college. With one child already in university, the thought of supporting two at once was overwhelming.

She is a talented varsity soccer player and received several offers from colleges in the US. While some offered scholarships, none were enough to cover the crazily high cost of living there. I needed a miracle; I needed a full ride or something close to it. I told her to wait and be patient.

By early April, most of her friends had already committed to their universities. She was the only one undecided, held back by financial constraints.

I said to her, "Let's pray harder and ask God for direction," fully aware that learning to surrender to God was part of the process.

Suddenly, in mid-April, the breakthrough came. She received an offer from Duke University. It was an offer we couldn't refuse—specifically for their campus in China. Not only was the scholarship generous, but the cost of living was far more manageable than in the US.

I saw a path forward. I knew I would have to work hard to make it happen, but for the first time, I had confidence in my decision to surrender to God.

The Lesson in the Wait

Learning from two different experiences tied together by the same thread, I have learned to wait on the Lord. I told my third child, who goes to college next year : "Pray hard. God will surprise you." She knows now, watching her siblings, that we rely on God’s provision, not just our bank account.

Surrendering everything to God is not easy when you are in the waiting room. You expect things to work on your timeline, but God has a different perspective.

Some miracles don’t come early. They come only after you’ve learned how to wait.

In that moment of realization, I understood something clearly : If the answer had come earlier, we might have credited our own preparation. But because it came after the agonizing wait, we knew it was God’s hand.

The waiting stretched our faith. The silence deepened our trust. The delay refined our hearts. And when the miracle finally arrived, it carried peace—not panic.

This miracle reminded me : God doesn’t rush. God prepares. And what He prepares is always worth waiting for.