When God waits

When God waits until what seems to be the last possible moment to sweep in and save the day….

Hold on right there, sister. 

God isn’t waiting.  He is eternal and He exists outside of time—time holds no meaning for Him, so technically He is not waiting at all.

He is existing.

He is orchestrating.

He is blessing His creation.

He is sovereignly ruling.

He is delighting in our worship.

He is doing many, many, many unfathomable things.

But, but, but…

…He is not waiting.

We could have an amazingly complex discussion about this beautiful, barely comprehensible truth—just like the ones I once enjoyed in my Bible college theology classes, and then we would be here all day and into the night marveling over Our Great God. 

So let’s just leave it at this for now: 

God does not "wait" to come to our aid, but He does understand our reliance on the concept of time and that, to us, it often appears His intricately orchestrated plans seem to come to pass just as we’re about to give up hope that there even is a plan for our little lives.

But remember this:

These plans of God span all of eternity—and we make our appearance on the stage at our appointed time and for our ordained purpose.  We’re woven into the tapestraic threads that join our roles in redemption with those of the saints and sinners of old and of those yet to come.

During this period when God seems slow to appear on our scene, do we find our place in our waiting?

Perhaps we are being prepared for the next step…or for a leap that is still 10 or 20 or 173 steps away.

Perhaps this is a time to learn faith or faithfulness,

     trust or trustworthiness,

          grace or graciousness.

Perhaps we are called to exhibit burning obedience despite the present dimness of the revelation.

Perhaps we are simply asked to rest—stop striving and fear not, little lamb—and be content in this moment.

Perhaps it is a combination of these or not any of these at all.  Perhaps the underlying purpose may change as we continue to press on toward the goal and seek first His Kingdom.

We are all at different waystations on our journeys toward Christlikeness, and we’re all yet looking forward to the full realization of the Kingdom of God.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps….

Ultimately, we know that this season of waiting,

     of watching,

          of hoping,

               of longing

      is for our good

                    and for His glory.

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.

1.  All quotes taken from http://www.holleygerth.com/heart-to-heart-with-holley/2012/4/23/the-best-kind-of-waiting.html.  Published April 23, 2012.

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.)

Just between us

I am torn.  Torn between the beauty of holding this secret and the glory of the news it contains.  Should I mention what I know or keep it quiet for even longer than I already have?

Sure, a few close friends and immediate family members know.  Or at least, they've heard a small part of the story.  But yet I feel this is a season of waiting, watching, and hoping.

I've kept this precious secret for a long time now--years in fact.  But, that's what it is:  precious.  It's hard to keep something so valuable locked away, yet it's equally difficult to place it in vulnerability.  So, for now, the details of the vision must stay just between us.

Between my Father and myself. 

He whispered the treasure to my heart, and it seems best to keep it there a bit longer.  Actually, it's an honor to cherish this in a quiet place.  Only He knows the full picture, and He reveals a bit more as time passes.  The conversations we have about it are at times joyful...or tearful...or just plain honest. 

The vision looks different now than when I first saw it.  It hasn't changed.  Rather, He has refined it.  It's almost as if He has drawn back the curtain inch by inch by inch--I see more of the promise each time.  It was beautiful to behold when I viewed only a sliver.  It made me catch my breath!  Yet, now I see a bit more, and it is amazing!  The curtain is not fully open, however.  Not yet.

There is hardship in the waiting.  Sorrow and impatience--intense longing, really.  And there is peace, though I tend to worry...often...and my serenity melts.  But I don't want to insist on receiving only the foretaste of the vision and miss living in the full revelation of the promise. 

Waiting.  Waiting.  Holding my breath.  Rejoicing.  Waiting.  Fussing and fretting.  Repenting.  Waiting.

There will be hardship in the reality of the answered word, as well.  The calling is a sacrifice.  I confess there are times when the seeming enormity of the calling worries me.  On my own, I am inadequate.  Thus, this is a time of preparation.  This is a blessing.  This is where I learn dependence on the Lord.  This is what I need to be ready and willing to take on the mantle of the calling.

Waiting.  Remembering...to breathe, to pray, to prepare, to rest.  Waiting.  Trusting?  Yes, making the attempt at living trustfully.  Is that a word?

How I wish I could shout from the rooftops what I know.  Unburden my heart, share my awesome news.  But it's not time.  This has to stay just between us.

Is that such a bad thing?  I don't think so.  Our culture is all about instant gratification, instant media, instant...me, me, me.  Somewhere in the midst of all this instant distraction, we've forgotten our ability to be quiet until the time is completed, until the moment of truth has arrived.

Are you in the same place as I?  Be patient.  Be circumspect.  Keep the beautiful secrets of your Father's heart until He gives the assurance that now is the time to run to the highest mountains and shout them at the top of your lungs.  Don't miss out on the gift of intimacy with His heart, His plan.  This gift doesn't come every day.  At some point, everyone will know what He has whispered to you, and the news will lose some of its sheen, its sparkle, in the retelling of the story.

Embrace the waiting, the trusting, the promise on its way to being fulfilled.