Monday, April 23, 2012

Waiting room


When the Lord has a message for me, He usually doesn’t shout it across the universe.  It’s subtle, quiet, whispered.  In fact, He’s been teaching me lately that He is not going to scream.

He is not going to yell.

Neither will He demand…or command, for that matter.

All He needs to do is whisper. 

My heart can hear that.  

When He wants my attention, He will gently let me know.  He loves my soul, and my soul was not made for anything but grace.

Yes this, and His glory.


Speaking of grace and glory…
We’ve been having a lot of conversations lately about waiting.  I’m waiting…and waiting…and waiting…and apparently, He is as well.  This morning, I pointed out at least five miracles that He will have to do simply to complete the plans He has already whispered to my heart.  Within these five events, He will have to set in motion multiple other miraculous works.  He really didn’t seem that worried about it.  He gave me the impression He does this kind of thing a whole lot.

Back to His quiet ways.  When I’m lacking, He often brings the wisdom of others to me in a timely manner.  Here are some very recent,  “random” thoughts on waiting and grace:

Waiting is not always passive
Holley Gerth1 defines waiting as being “expectantly watchful.”  She cites Isaiah 40:31, “Those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”  She notes that “the ‘wait’ here is full of activity—soaring, running, walking.”

She goes on, “Yes there are times when waiting requires literal stillness.  But many times we wait as we go about fulfilling the desires of the Master.  This verse promises that approaching life in this way actually renews our strength.”


Grace in all circumstances
Paul David Tripp wrote a precious book of essays centered on Psalm 27.  A Shelter in the Time of Storm:  Meditations on God and Trouble2 gleans much from this psalm of David.  The book was a gift from my friend Jessica, and she told me that she knew I’d find it meaningful from time to time, just as she had.  (Unless you’re completely broken, this is not the type of book you read cover to cover in one or two sittings.  It’s a book you can count on when there are twinges of grief or trial in your heart and mind.)
 
I found  grace in these words:

You will not send me
from Your presence.
You will not drive me
from Your grace.
You will not separate me
from Your glory.
You will not eliminate me
from Your promises.

The poem is about transgression and our (new-covenant) righteousness through Christ.  It was what I needed to hear in regard to my sin and standing…and in regard to my present waiting.  Sometimes I feel cut off from His presence because I cannot easily sense Him in my waiting. 

I fear He has forgotten me. 

I was reminded again that this will never be the case—for any reason.


Stay put and stand firm
I just started Kelly Minter’s Bible study on the life of Ruth3.  I love the story of Ruth—of obedience and overcoming, of loyalty and redemption.  Really love the redemption part!  At the end of Minter’s first study, which is about not trusting and obeying God (a key theme that overshadows Ruth chapter 1), she writes a little something that has stuck with me these past few days:  “Be encouraged by this quote from Matthew Henry, reminding us that fleeing our circumstances doesn’t necessarily remedy them.  “It is our wisdom to make the best of that which is, for it is seldom that changing our place is mending it.’” 4

Continuing, she writes, “God is present right where you are.  Stay put and stand firm.  It is always more blessed to be under the care of His will than anywhere else.” 


Give yourself room in the waiting
Now, we can’t drag our feet when God leads us to move on to the next step.  But until we know that step, we must allow ourselves room to breathe and to be attentive.

This is not my strong suit.  My breathing looks like hyperventilation in the waiting.  Attentiveness plays second fiddle to demanding.  My way.  Right here.  Right now.  Got it?

Clearly...
This is not trust exhibited.  
This is not grace claimed. 


The grass is not greener
Unless we are contrasting our current existence with our heavenly home, the grass is exactly the same shade of green on both sides of our personal fence.  I know this, and yet I struggle to be content.  I don’t know the future, but I have a strong indication of at least past of my life’s further ministry and calling. 

Right now, I feel torn between my two “callings”—the one I have in this moment and the one(s) I will have later in life.  This is ridiculous, this duality of purpose I place on myself.   

They don’t form a dividing line in my life.  Actually, they flow into and from the other.  I have to be careful that my looking forward in expectation does not become dissatisfaction with my current ministry.

He has grace enough for both.



2.  Tripp, Paul David.  A Shelter in the Time of Storm:  Meditations on God and Trouble.   (Wheaton, IL:  Crossway, 2009), 42.
3.  Minter, Kelly.  Ruth:  Loss, Love & Legacy.  (The Living Room Series.)  (Nashville, TN;  LifeWay Press, 2009.  Fourth Printing December 2010), 14.
4.  Matthew Henry.  Matthew Henry’s Commentary on the Whole Bible.  Vol. 2.  (Publication details unknown.)



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