photo by Ales Krivec
I might be the most impatient person in the world. I hate waiting for anything. This video’s going to take a minute to load? Not worth it. I have to wait how long for this to cook? Not if I turn the temperature higher.
Don’t even get me started on the big stuff.
Like waiting to see my book published. It seemed like the process was going quickly, like, “other authors might hate me if it’s this easy” quickly. And then it wasn’t. The process is still moving, but oh so slowly. I’m still waiting to see what God will do.
Or this decision we have to make. Our family has prayed about it for months. It’s door 1 or 2. That seems simple. Waiting for an answer is agonizing. We want to know now.
Unfortunately, God seems uninterested in our timelines. He doesn’t usually do fast, especially when it comes to spiritual growth, character change, answering the big prayers, or making the dreams happen.
But Psalm 130:6 says, “I will wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.”
A night of watching and waiting sounds like drudgery. Unproductive. Frustrating. It flies in the face of my impatience.
Waiting like this means we are helpless. We can’t make that sun come up one minute faster.
It begs humility from us. It requires us to relinquish control. It asks us to trust. It asks us to hope.
I’ve heard the word “wait” in scripture is often interchangeable with “hope.” This verse is asking us to put all our chips on God, all our hope in His goodness.
But hope is scary. Hope opens up our hearts to disappointment.
Yet this is the stance I want to take towards God.
I want to be a woman who hopes.
When I read this verse, I think of the watchtowers on the Great Wall of China. I imagine those watchmen putting all their hope in the dawn. Sunrise meant relief – the end of their watch. It meant rest, and rescue. It was a sure bet, that sun coming up. It was hope well placed.
These months of waiting have tethered us to God. It has been a long night, but it has been a night spent watching and hoping, expecting that He will answer. The night is when we are tempted to doubt, to become anxious, to wonder if He really is paying attention, if He cares. We’re tempted to take matters into our own hands (as if we can rush the morning).
But the night is when our souls learn to trust.
Because morning is coming. Whether it’s the answer to prayer, or the heart change, or the character growth, or the dream fulfilled, He will come. As surely as the sun rises, He comes.
No, not always the way we want. Often not the way we want. But the way we need, yes. He is worthy of our hope.
And, I’m learning, God seems more concerned with the process than the product. He’s more intent on our dependence than our destination. The night is not wasted. That’s where He causes hope to grow and trust to take root, where He wants to quiet our souls and fix our eyes on Him.
So let’s be people who wait well. The sun will come.
Me practicing watchtower waiting on the Great Wall
What I’ve Learned about Seeking God
Having Hope in a New Season