Strengthening Our Bond in Silent Seasons

My Love, Cleo

There is something sacred about the seasons no one talks about—the ones marked by quiet prayers, lingering questions, and slow answers. The seasons where nothing seems to move, yet everything within us is being stretched.

Cleo, we have walked through many of those seasons. We have waited together.

We have waited for the provision. For open doors. For healing. For clarity.
And at times, we have even waited for one another—to grow, to forgive, to understand.

It has not always been easy, and there are days the silence has felt heavier than words can express. But even in that stillness, even when the wait has felt long and uncertain, we have still shown up. Together.

What I have come to learn is that love does not only live in the celebrations and laughter—it lives in the waiting too. It is there in the quiet mornings when we lock eyes over tired cocoa cups. It is in the silent prayers whispered before sleep. It is in the way your hand still finds mine, even when words are few.

Sometimes I forget that God is not just the God of suddenly—He is the God of slowly. The God of roots, of unseen growth, of hidden strength. And through it all, He has been near. Shaping us. Deepening us. Refining us.

And you, Cleo—you have been a reflection of that steady love.

You have carried peace when I have wrestled with worry.
You have kept believing when I did not have the words to pray.
You have made space for my vulnerability, my frustrations, my fears—and still, you have loved me there.

Love like that can not be rushed. It is forged in the quiet. Strengthened in the in-between. And somehow, in this waiting, our bond has grown roots that go deeper than I ever imagined.

So today, if the answers still feel far, if the breakthrough still tarries, I want you to know—I am still here. I still choose us. I still believe in all that God is doing, even in the silence. Because He is faithful. And so are we.

Let this be the chapter we look back on and say, “We became stronger here.”

Thank you for waiting with me. For walking this out with grace. For being my partner not just in answered prayers—but in the ache of the ones we are still waiting for.

We may not have it all yet.
But we have each other.
And that, my love, is more than enough.

“We may be waiting, but we are not wasting—we are growing. Together.”

“Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay.”
— Habakkuk 2:3 (NIV)

Forever your wife,

Muthoni Muange

If you are in a waiting season, consider these questions:

1. What am I waiting for in this season?

2. In what ways has waiting strengthened or tested me?

3. What can I pray for intentionally this week?