In the Waiting
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by Russell Kelfer
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried.
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, He replied.
I pleaded, and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the Master so gently said, “Child, you must wait.”
“Wait? Your say wait??” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why.
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I’m claiming your Word.
“My future, and all to which I can relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me ‘wait’?
I’m needing a ‘yes’, a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’, to which I can resign.
“And Lord, you have promised that if we believe,
We need but ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
“I’m weary of asking: I need a reply!”
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
As my Master replied once again, “You must wait.”
So I slumped in my chair; defeated and taut
And grumbled to God; “So I’m waiting, for what?”
He seemed then to kneel and His eyes met with mine
And He tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens, darken the sun,
Raise the dead, cause the mountains to run.
“All you see I could give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want, but you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of My love for each saint;
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint.
“You’d not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust, just by knowing I’m there.
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me,
When darkness and silence was all you could see.
“You would never experience that fullness of love
As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
“The glow of My comfort late in the night;
The faith that I give when you walk without sight;
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
“And you never would know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’
Yes, your dreams for that loved one o’ernight could come true,
But the loss! if you lost what I’m doing in you!
“So be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me.
And though oft’ may My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all….is still…wait.”
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The Becoming by Jenny Simmons
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Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us by Adele Ahlberg Calhoun
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“Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.”― Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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I Timothy 4:7-8
7 Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives’ tales; rather, train yourself to be godly. 8 For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.
Isaiah 30
The In Between Place
by Wendy Gerdes
Waiting. It’s a part of life. We wait in lines, in traffic, for a special trip we are looking forward to, a dreaded surgery, phone calls both good and bad, planned dates on the calendar and those things we hope for that we have wish we had a known date for. Waiting reminds us we are not self-sufficient but dependent on others and a God we cannot control.
The in-between - or the wait - is that rocky unknown place where our vulnerabilities are exposed, our fears are made known and we desperately look for something to anchor to. Reading through the Psalms I am struck by how much of our lives are lived in the in-between spaces. Part of Psalm 23 says, “Even though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil for you are with me.” The words ‘even though’ remind me that my waiting places are not particular to me and are to be expected. It’s a passing through place often filled with unknowns and circumstances not controllable by us. It’s a space where darkness seems more present than light and sometimes there are actually circumstances to be afraid of. Disease is scary, kids making detrimental choices have real consequences, prolonged loneliness is difficult, losing a marriage is devastating, a longing for a child or marriage unfulfilled are gut-wrenching and death really does come and sometimes too soon. How do I not fear this evil or this falling place where I’m not sure where I will land? God is with me and this is the important part.
Reading through the Psalms reminds me that God is in the in-between. All throughout, the writer laments his situations he finds himself in and then repositions his hope in the God who truly anchors. The God who is with.
I used to think faith in God meant my circumstances would turn out how I had hoped. When they did not, I wondered what I had done or why God had failed me. My theology was not holding true in real life. I searched further because I knew either my theology and understanding were wrong or God did not keep his promises. I figured the problem was probably me which turned out to be a good guess. God upsets our theology at times because He wants to show us His goodness, but it’s so hard to let Him if we are hanging onto something for dear life. I was hanging onto the prospect of good circumstances and little pain. After all, that’s what God wanted for me, right?
Several very difficult life circumstances began chipping away at this deep, underlying belief and it toppled when my husband was diagnosed with a genetic condition that causes non-alcoholics cirrhosis and non-smokers emphesema. The time between the diagnosis and the prognosis spanned several weeks and the prognosis is not always good. I gave God the cold shoulder. He kept interrupting my thoughts with, “Am I enough?” I told Him He absolutely wasn’t. My belief was if I let Him think He was, He would take John. My belief that God wasn’t really good at His core stood out in plain sight. The god I was serving had a sadistic side that wanted to see what I was made of. I told Him He wasn’t enough because I was not really sure He’d be enough anyway. I was mad.
Over the course of several weeks, He began to show me that He would go lower than any circumstance to catch me; that even if the very worst thing imaginable happened in my life, He would be in that place with me - present, holding me, uplifting me and giving me everything I would need. He showed me His tenderness, kindness and deep love and care for me. I finally came to the place where I could tell Him honestly, He is enough. I allowed Him to take me to the very worst place I could imagine and see Him with me. I wanted Him to promise me John’s life would be long and healthy. I wanted so badly to anchor to that hope, but instead He re-anchored me in something that would hold steady in all of life no matter what life holds - Himself. It was then He freed me from my lifelong and controlling fear of something happening to those I love. In the waiting, He revealed Himself. In the waiting, He repositioned my hope.
So often we desire to anchor ourselves to the object of our hope or what we are waiting for, but God gently encourages us to anchor ourselves in Him.
How do we do this practically?
Ask Him to show us where our hope is anchored and to help us know the difference between hoping in Him and hoping in what He can do for us.
Ask Him to show us the pieces of us that have a hard time trusting Him with ourselves. So often we have underlying hidden beliefs.
Be honest with Him when it feels He is actually not enough for the current circumstance or if the thing we are waiting for never happens. Full honesty allows Him to come to us as we are. God deals with us as we actually are, not as we pretend to be.
He is strong enough for all of our hope. He can teach us to fully entrust all of who we are, our hopes, our futures and the ones of those we love to Him. So often He does this while we wait if we allow Him to. In the waiting, a clearer picture of Him often emerges. Waiting on God is looking past our hope in what we are waiting for to Him. In that in-between space He gently teaches us to truly put our hope in Him.
Psalm 34:5
Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.
