What is it about waiting that makes it so repulsive? Even the word itself conjures interior shuddering. Waiting is intrusive, yet elusive. Waiting means we aren’t moving, doing, or busily occupying space and time. For a time, we must remain still, and that’s what we hate about waiting—the stillness. Solitude might cause us to cringe, only because we are doers rather than people of being. And waiting requires a particular aspect of pausing long enough to ponder. That’s why it’s so nerve-wracking for most of us.
A few weeks ago, I was pouring out my weekly “melancholic dump” onto the Lord in silent prayer. It was more like a whine fest, but I was—as I always am—completely honest and unabashed in my petulance. I told God I was tired of always waiting, that it seemed as if most of my life had been spent twiddling my thumbs and hoping that something (a project, a dream) might move forward. The restlessness stirred inside of my heart and burst into this interior tirade.
God knew I was tired of waiting, but He also needed to teach me something. After I ended my rant, He spoke to my heart: Waiting is a grace, a gift.
This reality left me stunned and then aggravated that I would be surprised at such simplicity in truth. This rationale, while ever-present, somehow trumps my ability to internalize truth so that it is emblazoned on my heart.
I wondered about this gift of waiting, this place of not yet. I think most of us mull over the past in a nostalgic longing for what once was while also musing about the future and what we dream will be. While we do this, we lose the opportunity of the present moment. That is where the grace of waiting lies – in the here and now, not what has been or will be.
We seem to forget that life is not meant for mere action and mass production, yet that’s what we typically strive for (myself included). In our busyness, perhaps our acedia, we lose the meaning of what waiting can offer us.
In that moment of realization, I understood that most of my spiritual growth occurred during those seemingly interminable and excruciating periods of waiting for God to act in my life. Somehow, when my waiting was done with keen vigilance rather than slothful drowsiness, it bore incredible virtue that wouldn’t have otherwise developed.
While we tend to view waiting as a form of laziness, and it can be, it’s important to differentiate between the mentality of “God will make everything happen for me” and “I’m trusting that God will move, but I’m waiting on His timing.”
Fruitful waiting involves an openness and constant awareness of God’s presence in and around us. It means that we allow God to rest in us or choose to move through us. Either way, we are at the ready for His movements, whenever they occur. We don’t become complacent to the status quo, but neither do we impulsively pounce on futile busywork. We are simply listening to the rhythm of the Holy Spirit within us – will He stay quiet, or will He act?
And when God is quiet, what is that telling us?
It’s telling us to keep watch and rest up for the next flurry of activity. It seems that God moves in ripples and waves through our lives. Sometimes incredible opportunities seem to fall into place all at one time, while many months or years may pass without much moving forward – it seems.
The waiting, the in-between, the not-yet are all times when God is moving behind the scenes, and we are called to trust in Him. When we wait, we learn to persevere through the droughts and doubts, which certainly creep into our psyche when long periods of time have passed without an answer or solution to our prayers or fulfillment of our longings.
When we wait, we grow in patience, because waiting bears a specific aspect of long-suffering that can be painful while God prunes us for the next possibility to serve Him. Patience, however unbearably it lingers in the midst of waiting, fosters fortitude.
Fortitude enables us to endure the setbacks and obstacles that surely attempt to impede God’s plans for our lives. We forge ahead boldly, despite the trials, when fortitude is engraved on our hearts.
Finally, waiting produces hope. This hope is so grand that, not only is our confidence in God restored and strengthened, but it is unwavering and withstands the next cycle of movement and waiting that lies ahead on our life’s journey.
I think of this verse from Luke 21: 34-36, because it pertains to the manner in which God asks us to wait – with vigilance, hope, and expectation:
Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth. Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.
These words are not ominous portents of the End for those of us who are living in the present moment. Though we acknowledge that the End could happen any day, we do not live as people of fear or anxiety or drowsiness. We live as people of hope, fed by God’s Word and Flesh, sustained by prayer, and encouraged in the gift and grace available to us during the periods of waiting.
God presents waiting as periods of rest and recuperation, reflection and rejuvenation. Let us never waste the gift we have in the waiting. It may last a day or several years, but we cling to the hope of God’s fulfillment in our lives that will surely come – in this lifetime or the next.
