Faith in Motion: The Train Series

The Train Series explores faith as steady movement rather than dramatic change. These reflections consider platforms, shared compartments, tunnels, and arrival as sacred spaces where discernment deepens, rest becomes possible, and identity remains intact. 

Written for those who are no longer trying to escape their lives, this series invites readers to notice how God carries us forward quietly, faithfully, and without urgency.

Session One: The Platform

When Waiting Is Still Movement

There are seasons when life does not ask us to leave, but it does not allow us to stay the same.

We find ourselves standing on a platform.

The platform is not the destination.
But it is not nothing.

Trains arrive here and depart from here, yet the platform itself does not move. Still, something is happening. 

Timetables shift. 
Bodies orient. 
Eyes scan the horizon. 
Luggage is gathered not because departure is guaranteed, but because readiness matters.

Scripture understands this kind of waiting.

Habakkuk writes, “Though the vision tarries, wait for it. It will surely come; it will not delay.” This waiting is not passive. It is attentive. It is anchored. It is faithful without being frantic.

The platform teaches us that waiting can be a form of obedience.

This kind of waiting is different from stagnation. Stagnation feels closed and heavy. Platform waiting feels quiet, but awake. You are not asleep to your life. You are simply not forcing it forward.

Many of us were taught that faith always looks like motion. Leaving. Launching. Deciding. Declaring. But Scripture is full of people who were faithful without moving an inch.

• Israel waited at the edge of the sea.

• Mary waited after the angel spoke.

• The disciples waited in an upper room with no instructions beyond stay.

The platform is where hope learns to breathe without demanding certainty.

You do not know which train is yours yet.
You do not know who will be seated beside you.
You do not know how long the journey will take.

But you are present.

And presence is not neutral. Presence shapes what you notice, what you carry, and what you refuse to leave behind.

Waiting on a platform requires restraint. It asks you not to board the wrong train simply because it is loud, fast, or already open. It asks you to trust that movement will come in its proper time, and that premature motion often costs more than patience.

Some seasons of faith are not about choosing direction. They are about refusing panic while direction clarifies.

The platform is where discernment sharpens.
Where longing is named without being indulged.
Where readiness grows without performance.

Nothing looks impressive here. No one applauds waiting. But Scripture insists that God often does His most careful work in places where nothing appears to be happening.

If you are on a platform right now, you are not behind.

You are oriented.
You are awake.
You are becoming someone who can move without losing yourself.

And when the train arrives, you will not have to rush.

You will already be standing.

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Reflection Questions

1. Where in my life am I standing between what was and what will be, neither leaving nor arriving yet fully present?

2. What does waiting feel like in my body right now, and how is that different from stagnation or avoidance?

3. What trains am I tempted to board simply because they are loud, familiar, or immediately available?

4. What am I being asked to gather in this season, not to hurry forward, but to be ready when movement comes?

5. How might patience in this season be forming discernment rather than delaying it?