Life has a way of looping back. Not to punish, not to trap, but to invite us to walk wiser, deeper, and freer. To step into a chapter reshaped by grace.

That’s because we serve a God who doesn’t waste moments, seasons, or stories.
He doesn’t waste heartbreak.
He doesn’t waste setbacks.
He doesn’t waste long nights or quiet tears.
He doesn’t waste moments when the path feels unclear and the chapter too hard to bear.

The heart of this truth rests in Lamentations 3:22–23:

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

This isn’t just a nice Christian platitude — it’s a reality rooted in the heart of a faithful God. The Hebrew word for compassions here is rachamim, rooted in the word rechem, which means “womb” — a word that conveys a deep, nurturing, mother-like mercy. This is mercy that embraces and cradles us in moments when we feel fragile or lost.

And when it says His compassions “never fail,” it’s saying more than that they won’t stop. The Hebrew is lo‑kalu, which means “they have not been used up” or “they have not run dry.” His mercy doesn’t wear out. It doesn’t give up when we stumble too many times. It doesn’t walk away when the chapter we’re living feels too long or too hard.

Each morning, this mercy arrives as fresh and new as the rising sun. Not because we deserve it, not because we’ve earned it, but because this is the very nature of the God who doesn’t waste moments. The God who doesn’t waste seasons. The God who doesn’t waste stories.

A second chance, then, isn’t about trying harder. It’s about yielding deeper. It’s about opening clenched hands. It’s about trusting that the One who shaped the stars can reshape the threads of the story we’re living.

What feels like an ending may be the place where a better chapter begins — not because we write it ourselves, but because we place it in the hands of a God whose mercy will never run dry.

And yet, if we’re honest, this can be hard to believe when the chapter we’re in feels too long or too heavy. Sometimes, the dissonance between this truth and the reality we’re living can sting. We wonder if His mercy applies to this chapter. We wonder if this story can be reshaped.

That’s where prayer becomes more than words — it becomes an act of trust, a way of placing ourselves, and our stories, into the hands of the One who doesn’t waste moments, seasons, or stories.

Here’s a prayer for those moments when belief feels like a struggle:

A Prayer for Those Who Are Struggling

Lord,
You are the God who doesn’t waste moments, seasons, or stories.
And yet, we confess — sometimes the chapter we’re in feels too long, too heavy, too hard to bear.

Help us to remember this:
You don’t waste any of it. Not one prayer. Not one heartbreak. Not one chapter.

Give us the courage to open our hands and trust You with what we’re carrying.
Help us to surrender the pieces we don’t understand, to rest in the mercy that finds us every morning.
Teach us to walk by faith when we can’t yet see the path,
and to cling to the promise that You are reshaping the threads of our stories — for good and for Your glory.

Thank You for being a God who doesn’t waste moments.
Help us to be a people who don’t waste trust.

Through Jesus Christ, our hope and redeemer,
Amen.