Choosing today to be thankful even in our waiting times. Perhaps for many of us, the hardest sacrifice of praise--to thank God in the midst of waiting.
We have many dear friends who are enduring almost suffocating waiting. Waiting for God to heal. Waiting for God to move the seemingly immovable stone.
All of us have surely been there... multiple times. Waiting to get married. Waiting for a baby. Waiting for college. Waiting for that test result. Waiting for healing. Waiting for restoration. Hard waiting, uncertain waiting, scary waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting and praying. Praying and waiting... and sometimes wondering, does God see? Does He care? Will He act?... while you continue to wait and pray...
We did a lot of that during those long days at the hospital. And knowing the human condition, well, that means all of you are enduring some kind of waiting in your lives right now, too.
Yesterday, I was reading in Genesis and was reminded afresh of the long, hard waiting Abraham and Sarah endured before God finally gave them the long-promised--but awfully long-delayed--baby, Isaac. 25 years they waited. 25 years.
Right now in John 6 we see the disciples caught in the midst of a storm on the Sea of Galilee. It was late at night, wind whipping, waves crashing. And the disciples rowed 3 to 4 miles in the midst of all that dark mess--we're told that would have been about 7 hours of rowing.
Think of that: 7. Straight. Hours. Rowing, rowing, rowing in the darkness and wind. Wondering where on earth Jesus could be, and why on earth did He send us out into this mess, and why doesn't He come and save us. Does He see? Does He care? Will He act?
And then suddenly, out of the darkness, the disciples see Him. They think He's a ghost. I wonder, has He been there all along? Or at least been there for quite some time? Perhaps. We can be certain He knew exactly where His disciples were, what they were enduring, and how they were faring. He knew all about the storm. In fact, Jesus sent them out into the sea knowing the storm would blow up. O, He saw all right. He cared. And He would act.
Because here's the thing: He's the God of the storm. He can calm storms and create them with a word. And if He's allowed us to enter a storm, to endure countless hours of hard rowing and rowing and waiting and wondering, well then, He has a plan. A far greater plan than we can see or imagine. And He's doing something bigger and greater with our storms and our hard waiting.
And He's with us while we row. Out there in that dark stormy mess--He's there.
"When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were frightened. But He said to them, "It is I; do not be afraid." Then they were glad to take Him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going." (John 6:19-21)
Jesus was out there on top of those crashing waves; right there in the water beside them. Only they couldn't see Him. They were so focused on rowing hard and waiting long that they missed the Savior with them in the storm. But when they realized that He saw, He cared, He was there, they were no longer afraid, and they gladly took Him into their boat of waiting.
And immediately the boat arrived where it was going. Because Jesus has the power to calm the storm or calm us in the waiting... or to get us through all that long, hard waiting and to get us safely home. All the way through the waiting. All the way home.
So today, it may be a sacrifice of praise, but will you thank Him in your waiting? Maybe not thank Him for the waiting, but thank Him in it. Because in our waiting, He is teaching us and shaping us and molding us into His perfect likeness. He's teaching us to trust that He is there with us in the darkness, and He will get us all the way home... all for His glory, and all for our good. And we will be glad.
O, so glad.
To God, who waits with us and promises to use our waiting for greater glorious good, be all the glory.
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