Waiting on God
“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” ~ Psalm 27:14 (ESV)
When I was a kid my family used to collect our loose change in a jar. It wasn’t just any change jar—it had a specific purpose. All year my siblings and I added contributions to this make-shift savings account so we could treat my dad to a father’s day brunch. We dropped handfuls of coins in; they clanked together and the fill line slowly grew higher as the months went on and June neared. The waiting for that celebration to arrive felt exciting and even magical. I knew what we were getting in the end (buttery pancakes, fluffy eggs, sweet pastries, and more from what seemed like endless food stations), when it would arrive, and that it would meet all my expectations. The act of waiting was savored just as much as the food itself.
Several studies published in the journal Psychological Science show that happiness is not just linked to an experience in the moment, but it is also generated through the anticipatory waiting for the experience—like when planning a vacation.
Often waiting to enjoy the fruits of something less leisure-like, such as an important life goal like graduating school, can be a bit harder. We understand what we have to do to reach the finish line: complete our school work, study, attend classes, and pass tests. It can feel overwhelming and exhausting, but the end is in sight and we can almost feel the diploma in our hands.
But there is another kind of waiting that I’ve found to be the hardest. The kind of waiting where you’ve taken every action you can think of, prayed every prayer you could pray, waited months, years, and even decades, and the doors remain closed despite what you believe in your heart you are called to. You are waiting on God.
I shared with a loved one some time ago that the theme of my life seems to be this kind of waiting. Seven years for that situation over there and another seven for this other dream. Two decades for this and what seems like a lifetime for that. Some dreams that have come to fruition, either fully or partially, matched my expectations and others looked absolutely nothing like I thought they would when they came to be and so, at times, although the waiting had come to an end, that gap led to a period of grief, even though I knew God had me right where I needed to be.
Holy Saturday marks a special time of waiting between Jesus’ crucifixion on Good Friday and His resurrection on Easter Sunday. While we know the end of the story, those who followed Jesus felt grief, confusion, and unmet expectations in this in-between time.
As Holy Saturday approaches, I am reminded of a profound time in my life in which the significance of this day became clearer. In 2018, I experienced a life shift with an opportunity to reflect on my unanswered questions. Written in the pages of my journals, over a decade’s worth of time, the same question emerged but the tone changed depending on the day—some entries written with patience and acceptance, some with frustration and longing. God, I have asked you over and over, and I have waited year after year. I have listened, pushed and learned, stretched myself and worked toward goal after goal. What else am I to do, and how much longer will I need to wait?
That spring I participated in Matthew Kelly’s Lenten program where I received a series of daily emails and video reflections. The Holy Saturday message focused on waiting on God and more specifically the call to action was for no action at all. It was not a day to ask God questions; instead, it was a day to allow room for being rather than doing. I agreed to relax my doer tendencies for the day. Okay, God, I’ve done the work both presently and all the years leading up to this. Today is not a day for questions and action; today is a day for waiting. I will wait.
The next day on Easter morning my husband handed me a handwritten letter on white paper. I sat on my bed reading his surprising words in which he experienced a heart shift and was willing to take a financial risk in order for me to pursue my next steps, whatever those may be. He had not known my prayer the day before, or my leanings that Lenten season. I immediately knew my focus for the next season of life, something that had been stirring inside of me that was now ready.
While I’m still learning to appreciate God’s perfect timing, His careful planning is becoming more clear to me. This year’s Lenten season I find myself in a season of making after many years of waiting. The making of plans feels fast-paced yet fruitful, and also just right because I wouldn’t have been ready before this, no matter how much I wanted to be.
Do you find yourself currently in a season of waiting or making?
What is the posture of your heart during this time?
What are some examples of how God has shown up in your life in the past
that you can hold onto during seasons of waiting?
For related resources, see the prayer In Waiting and the poem In the Waiting.