Friday, February 5, 2010


We spend a good portion of our lives waiting.

For spouses.
For children.
For friends. 
For news.
For perfect timing.
For a sign.
For the next big step.
For something to come.
For something to go.
For the washing machine to get done.

We just spend a lot of time waiting.

It can be frustrating.
We can hem and haw and wring our hands and let our minds wander
with the "what if's" and the "but's" and the "maybe's."

We can grow impatient with the waiting,
because it can be hard,
because we want it to be over,
because we want to be there,
wherever there is.

We can assume.
We can try to move things along.
We can even give up.

we can just wait.

Because, there is purpose in the waiting.
There is a blessing that comes in the waiting.
There are things learned in the waiting.

And sometimes we are being called to stop waiting and get up and do.
But often we are being called to simply wait.
To rest.
To trust.
And if we try to get up and do before we're called to,
we miss the beauty that's hidden in the wait.
We miss the fullness that comes at the end of the waiting...
that is a product of the waiting.

I am learning to not second-guess God.
I am learning to not overlay what He directs me to do with what I think the purpose or reason is.
Because, I don't understand His ways,
and what I think the reason is
rarely turns out to be the reason.

I am learning there is preparation in the waiting. 
Preparation for me.
For others.
For circumstances.

I am learning that I cannot see growth in roots,
because it happens below the surface.
I'm learning that I cannot see the strength of the foundation,
because it is concealed inside.

But, even though I can't see the see the roots' growth,
I love the beauty of the fruit that comes from it.
And, even though I can't see the foundation's strength,
I love the solid footing that it gives me.

I am learning that the ache in my gut,
for something I can hardly put words to,
always becomes clear in His time.

And if I try to put words to it before He makes it clear,
it makes very little sense to anyone else.
So, I've stopped trying.
And instead, I wait.

And, yes, sometimes I wonder.
And, yes, sometimes I freak out.
And, yes, sometimes I overlay things with my assumed reasoning.
And, yes, sometimes I get impatient and mentally stomp my foot and say,
"When is the waiting going to be over?
When are You going to show me?
When are You going to bring it all together?"

But, I'm learning... trust... rest... glean... pray...
To at times move forward without understanding.
And to wait.

Because, the waiting is the hardest part...

...but it's also the most necessary.

Share this: