Here’s to the people who bring about life-changing waits.
On Sunday, at church, I speak with a woman who is like me about as much as a whale is like a guppy. And when things get dicey, I pray. And then I pray some more. Speaking to her teaches me how to tuck away my expectations and acknowledge others’ strengths and contributions.
Monday, at the grocery store, a lady with a cart overflowing with soup, noodles, and cat food beats me to the checkout counter. What does a win look like to You, Lord? Oh—a chance to rehearse that first-shall-be-last and last-shall-be-first thing! I’m grateful for her, because she reminds me that instead of speed, I’m contending for the Just-Like-Jesus Award.
Tuesday, I give an extra squeeze to my husband, Tim, of thirty-three years, as the undone honey-do list on the kitchen counter grows another month older. Thank You, Lord, for the scratches on our kitchen cupboards and squeaking 1958 pipes. You’re developing in me deep, abiding joy, because I know that faith in You is producing perseverance, making me mature and complete, lacking nothing (James 1:2-4). Yay!
Wednesday, singing worship in my car, I thank the drivers who cut me off on Portland streets. Do they know what wonderful processes they’re precipitating in me? I review the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace . . . kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22,23). As I signal a lane change, a car comes out of nowhere and swerves into my lane. Whoa, I say to myself, as I draw a sharp breath, that was a close call. I collect my thoughts. There was one more fruit. Which one did I miss? I extend an open palm to the driver, inviting her, with a smile, to enter into worship with me.
Thursday, I wave to my mailman, Bill, as he drops a bank statement into my mailbox. Looking it over, I bite my lip. Where’s the financial provision I’ve been expecting? Words spring to life on my journal pages: God, thanks for fulfilling Your promises. Your timing, like Your will, is good and pleasing and perfect. You’ve been faithful in the past. Surely You’ll speak to us again in Your time.
Friday, I whisper, “Thanks” for the delay at the chiropractor’s office. Healing from a car accident is taking longer than I’d figured. Yet, every wait provides more time to meditate on memory verses, like Habakkuk 2:3, “For the vision is yet for an appointed time . . . Though it tarries, wait for it.”
Saturday, I lift up the name of Jesus. Together He and I dialogue about how I’m morphing into a disciple who waits on Him, and others, with gradually-growing peace. You know what? Instead of blowing it, and trying to rush things along, I’m realizing, bit by bit, that every pause moves me closer to God.
To all who make me wait, I lift up a hearty, “Cheers!”
How does waiting changing you?