Waiting: Trusting a God Who Lives Beyond Time
Waiting
TRUSTING A GOD
WHO LIVES BEYOND TIME
God, are you there?
Silence
Are you listening?
More silence.
Ummm … am I getting the idea that You’re asking me to wait? Is that what I’m supposed to do? Just—sit here and WAIT?
A very long silence.
Why is it, God, that when I want to charge ahead, You insist I wait? And at other times—when I feel like waiting—You push me forward?
Deafening silence.
You had hoped God wouldn’t do this. Not now, not at this time, not in this situation. But He has. And it’s exasperating. He replies to your questions with long, drawn-out periods of silence. No answers, no directions, no warm fuzzies, no road sign pointing, “This is the way, walk ye in it.” Just … waiting.
Okay. If I have to sit here and wait, then I’ll … I’ll …
Before you know it, you’ve created your own noise, activity, and excitement—anything but that grating stillness which seems to rub against the grain of your soul.
It’s a common problem. We frantically crowd our time with more frenzy, hoping to satisfy our soul’s longings. We do spiritual frog-hops from one activity to the next.…
sign up for an extra committee at church …
agree to accept the chairman position …
volunteer in the nursery …
arrange for the Bible study’s potluck dinner …
count the offering after every worship service …
offer to help with the junior Sunday school class …
And what does all this get us? Spiritual exhaustion. Mental burnout. Physical drain. And even a few more irksome feelings about God.
Oswald Chambers has observed, “When we are in an unhealthy state physically or emotionally, we always want thrills. And in the spiritual domain, if we insist on getting thrills, on mounting up with wings, it will end in the destruction of spirituality.”
But I’m tired of waiting! you say.
Ah, the Spirit of Christ hasn’t forgotten you. He’s listening. Finally you heave a deep sigh. I’m at the end of my rope. I yield to You, Lord.
The Spirit is working.
Ignoring your frenzy, bypassing your busyness, the Glorious Intruder quietly elbows His way into your activity, whispering, “Be still and know that I am God.”
Even though you have a hard time believing that any worthwhile activity can exist in stillness, God begins to do His hushed work in your heart. He gives you His inexplicable calm as you wait by the hospital bed of your husband. He gives you patience as you wait for the letter of acceptance from college. Peace as you wait for the job opportunity. And more than that, He gives you Himself, His intimacy, as you search for an answer to your deepest longings. It dawns on you that rush is wrong nearly every time.
It’s a command; it’s a charge: “Keep silence before Me … and let the people renew their strength” (Isaiah 41:1, KJV).
It’s a bidding, a mandate: “Be silent, all mankind, before the LORD” (Zechariah 2:13, TLB).
When we do, when we are—wonder of wonders!—we hear “a still, small voice.” God’s answer comes only through waiting.