God may not be there when you want him but he is always on time.

Terrell Owens, a man of passion and fire on the field, once spoke with the voice of ancient faith: “God may not be there when you want Him but He is always on time.” Though born in the realm of sport, this saying echoes with the tone of scripture and the wisdom of generations. It speaks of patience, of trust, of the divine rhythm that surpasses human urgency. For men cry out in haste, longing for rescue at once, yet the Eternal One answers not by our clocks, but by His own perfect measure.

The meaning of this teaching is that divine help does not always come in the hour of our demand, but in the moment of true necessity. We, bound by impatience, believe ourselves abandoned when our prayers are not answered swiftly. Yet often it is only later that we see the wisdom: that what seemed like delay was preparation, and what we called silence was guidance toward a greater end. God’s timing is not the timing of men, but when He moves, it is always with precision, never too early and never too late.

History and faith alike bear testimony. Consider the story of the Exodus, when the people of Israel were trapped between Pharaoh’s armies and the Red Sea. They cried out, fearing destruction. God did not part the waters before they arrived, nor when they first began to despair, but only at the final moment, when all seemed lost. Then, in the hour of desperation, the sea split, and deliverance came. Not when they wished, but when it was needed, the answer arrived—always on time.

So too in the modern world we see this wisdom. Nelson Mandela, imprisoned for twenty-seven years, might have prayed each day for immediate release. To his human heart, the delay must have felt unbearable. Yet when freedom finally came, it was not only freedom for one man, but for a whole nation, and at a moment when he could lead with patience, wisdom, and forgiveness. The long years of waiting made him into the leader South Africa needed. His release came not when he wanted, but precisely when history required it.

The lesson for us is this: do not lose heart when answers are delayed. Do not believe that silence means absence. The eternal rhythm is beyond your grasp, but it is not beyond care. What you call waiting may in truth be shaping. What you see as denial may in truth be protection. The hour will come when the pieces align, when the door opens, when the burden is lifted. In that moment, you will know that the delay was not neglect, but timing.

In practice, this means cultivating the virtues of patience and trust. When trials press upon you, continue to labor, continue to pray, continue to hold faith, even when the answer seems far. Do not surrender to despair, for despair blinds you to the moment of deliverance when it comes. Instead, live with readiness, so that when the hour arrives, you are prepared to walk through the parted sea, to grasp the open hand, to step into the destiny you were being prepared for all along.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, remember the wisdom of Terrell Owens’ words: God may not appear at the moment of your demand, but He is never late. His hand moves in the hidden currents of time, and when it moves, it is perfect. Trust this rhythm, and you will find peace even in waiting, strength even in silence, and hope even in delay. For though He may not be there when you call in haste, He is always there when the true hour strikes—always on time, always enough.