“How long till we get to the beach, Mommy?” We were about seven minutes from our driveway the first time Henry asked. He was four years old, and the two of us were headed from our home in the foothills of South Carolina down to the coast, where the rest of the family would join us at the end of the school week.
Expecting him to be disappointed that so much of the trip lay ahead of us, I framed my answer as an apology. “Sorry, buddy, but we still have more than three hours to go.”
Hours and minutes were somewhat abstract to Henry’s young mind, but he understood that three hours was a lot of time. Still, his little spirit was so full of excitement that he squealed with joy, “Hooray, hooray! Only three more hours till we get to the beach!”
His response lifted my spirits, so a short time later when he asked again, “How much longer till we get to the beach?” I cheerily reported, “Only two hours and 45 minutes to go!”
“Yes!” he shouted. “We are getting closer!”
He was right. We were getting closer with every second and minute that passed. And rather than focusing on the fact that we weren’t there yet, he was focused on our movement in a good direction—and he was actually savoring the journey. He chattered away in his car seat about things he was hoping to do when we arrived. He asked me to name every cousin, aunt, and uncle who would be there. He was looking forward to building a sandcastle and was excited about what we might have for supper. As we drove, Henry was making plans in glad anticipation of his desires rather than fretting over the not yet of it all.
For the rest of the ride, he continued to ask for the countdown to arrival. Instead of feeling exasperated by his repetitive questions, I got more and more tickled by his enthusiasm.
Whenever we make the trek to the ocean, our family brings up this story. I suppose it reminds us that the journey can be part of the fun, even though it involves waiting. The memory holds out a glimmer of possibility: Children can learn to wait . . . even to wait with joy.
So much effort and innovation these days goes into speeding up the journey, whether it’s a literal journey to a physical destination or the journey from I want it to have it. This pattern of instant fulfillment has a diluting effect on joy.
On a folded sheet of yellowing paper that my mom discovered among some family documents, there is an unpublished essay by my great-aunt Eugenia Pearson called “The Magic of Expectancy.” Eugenia writes,
The youthness of youth is due largely to fervent and undiluted expectancies. People begin to be old, regardless of birthdays, when they limit and tame down their expectancies. Of course they try to feel that this taming down and limitation are respectable by calling them “settling down.” They seem to ignore the fact that in a living, changing, and growing world there can be no settling down at any stage of life. Expectancy keeps us in the creative livingness of life, where all desires are energized.
Eugenia was from an era of waiting stoically and not getting one’s hopes up. She was a teenager during the Great Depression. To her contemporaries, she brings the message that it is good to dream big and lean into longings. It’s a beautiful reminder not to give up on expecting God to do something wonderful, even when times are tough.
We are from a different era. Today, expectancy isn’t dulled by having our hopes dashed constantly by hardship, but rather by having them fulfilled instantly, always. Like the character Veruca Salt in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, who sings, “I want the world. . . I want it now!” children who habitually get what they want without delay are tyrannical when they have to wait. You see, entitlement is not expectancy. Impatience is not expectancy. Instant gratification has an unholy power to warp how our children think and feel. It muddies the clear, delicious water of expectancy and turns it into exasperation—a sour drink that makes waiting sheer misery.
Like a little devil on our shoulder, impatience whispers angry, fitful complaints in our ear that make us focus on what we don’t have. But there is another way to wait. A way of waiting that focuses on what we will have with confidence and enthusiasm.
As tempting as it is to try to spare our kids the pain of waiting, the best way to ease their anguish is to help them discover that waiting is not so bad. My favorite strategy for shifting a child’s perspective from exasperation to expectancy is to use countdowns. A countdown breaks up a long process into a series of small celebrations. This is not a trick to anesthetize or speed up delayed gratification. In fact, countdowns highlight rather than hide the reality of how far away you are from a desired destination or outcome. But by marking progress and celebrating milestones, countdowns make the journey feel endurable, even enjoyable. Children benefit from the way countdowns place something attainable in the foreground while giving them freedom to talk about their hopes and imagine the future.
Even if a desired outcome is very far away and progress is slow and gradual, stepping out the journey helps young people look forward with delight rather than despair. The journey itself is a fertile space for practicing patience and cultivating gratitude. Not everything a child wishes to attain is worth pursuing, but healthy desires deserve the space to gain momentum, even to reach the intensity of what we might call longing. Delayed gratification makes that crescendo possible and makes attainment all the more sweet when it finally comes. The natural byproduct is heartfelt appreciation.
If an instant lifestyle is getting in the way of your child’s ability to practice patience and savor longer processes, here are some tips for reclaiming the sweet parts of waiting.
- Don’t avoid telling kids about good things that are far off. The further out you tell them, the longer the on-ramp for their mental preparation so that they can engage deeply and savor the experience. Start with brief countdowns for toddlers (a few hours, or one day before a big occasion). And build up to extended countdowns with big kids, for whom even a year or more should not be too long to sustain expectancy for something wonderful.
- Loop kids in on preparations. Even if a child’s help actually makes life harder for you—and it will!—it forms something important in children to see themselves as contributors, and preparing can set their minds on the good that is to come with fresh energy and enthusiasm. Eventually kids who have taken part in preparations become truly helpful and enjoy it. We have finally reached that stage, and it is so rewarding!
- Talk about hopes in family prayers. When you pray aloud together, thank God for opportunities that you are looking forward to. Share your own excitement, voice your frustration when waiting is hard, and encourage kids to voice their feelings honestly. “How long, O Lord?” is a biblical plea (see Psalm 13, for example). Including God in our looking forward helps kids learn that our heavenly Father cares about all the intimate details of his children’s lives. All good experiences worth waiting for are his gifts to us.
Enduring a child’s many questions and emotions is a test of endurance for grownups. If we’re honest, we could use the practice. Becoming patient is a lifelong process. So keep answering those questions, patiently and enthusiastically. Building up our own endurance helps prepare us for the long journey of shepherding young people into the childhood experiences that will help them to grow in wisdom, character, and love for God. This is the goal ahead of us, the great destination we are expectantly, or perhaps anxiously, awaiting.
“My little children,” Paul wrote to the Galatians, “I am again in the pain of childbirth until Christ is formed in you” (4:19, NRSVue throughout). Long journeys, even spiritual ones, can at times be excruciating. But with every yes we give to God, with every step we take to cooperate with his grace, even with every chapter we read and every suggestion we put into practice, we are getting closer. (You are closer now than you were before you read this sentence!)
So hold on to joyful expectancy. And “may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 15:13).
Grace P. Pouch is content manager for Renovaré, where she curates and produces resources for spiritual renewal. She previously served as a seminary professor. She is the author of Savoring Childhood. Adapted from Savoring Childhood by Grace P. Pouch. Copyright (c) 2026 by Grace Pate Pouch. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com
