Waiting Well
I’ve heard of people who choose a word on January 1st that they hope will characterize the year ahead. I don’t have that kind of confidence or foresight, so I find it easier to choose a word in retrospect. The word I arrived at for the past season, and one that I’m sure many can agree on, is waiting.
When I think about it, I wonder what have we all been doing this past year or more if not waiting? Waiting for changes. Waiting for answers. Waiting for an end. Waiting for better days. It can feel discouraging and even painful to always wait. We grow tired. We sense the waiting-fatigue settle into our hearts and minds and we can get crushed by despair. Yet, in spite of these challenges, the act of waiting can be redeemed and made purposeful.
The most vivid illustration of waiting in my own life has been waiting for relief from physical illness over the last four years. When my pain first set in, I was not good at waiting. Every time my plans for a day or week were shattered because of the weakness in my body, I grew upset. Waiting felt foreign and unnatural. I felt like I was losing control, and I wanted to fast forward through every pain-filled day. I knew there must be some kind of purpose in my suffering, but I wanted the Lord to finish his work and bring about healing—now! Of course, I didn’t realize that he was shaping me through the waiting.
“Every time my plans for a day or week were shattered because of the weakness in my body, I grew upset.”
Last year, the arrival of the coronavirus to our community allowed me to observe a change that had taken place within me throughout my season of illness. While so many people were completely thrown off by the order to cease all public activities and stay at home—effectively pressing pause on their lives—it felt like a typical week for me. I was able to submit to the Lord in that period of cultural unravelling and settle into a familiar conversation with him. During these times of prayer, I recognized that I am not, and have never been, in ultimate control. The Lord’s work of continually slowing me down, humbling me into joyful submission, and opening my eyes to the beauty of resting in his control, rather than the illusion of my own, had grown in me the holy fruit of patience.
We all have our own stories of waiting, however small or large. And while we may be tempted to think that waiting is just an aspect of our lives that we have to endure, I invite you to consider that it could be so much more! In her book Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren draws a line from the waiting we do while we’re stuck in traffic to the waiting we do as followers of Jesus Christ. She says, “Christians are people who wait. We live in liminal time, in the already and not yet. Christ has come, and he will come again. We dwell in the meantime. We wait” (104).
If ever there was something that endows meaning on our seemingly insignificant times of waiting, this is it. When we sit in traffic, stand in a long line at the grocery store, or ask the Lord to bring about physical healing, we are pointed to the bigger picture. We are reminded that we are always waiting: waiting for the return of our Savior and the ushering in of his eternal kingdom.
The apostle Paul speaks more powerfully and eloquently on this topic than I could ever hope to. In this passage, he reminds us that waiting is not only our personal experience, but is the everyday reality of all of creation:
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for the adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. (Rom. 8:18–25)
So, if it’s true that waiting is both a personal and cosmic reality, how then should we wait? How do we redeem these in-between moments, these triggers of frustration, these never-ceasing reminders of our utter lack of control? Scripture compels us to wait with patience, hope, and action. Waiting can be hard, but it doesn’t have to be joyless.
Patience
In the Christian community, we often remind one another that God’s timing is perfect. More than a cliché, this is a powerful truth that frees us to wait with patience.
“How do we redeem these in-between moments, these triggers of frustration, these never-ceasing reminders of our utter lack of control?”
The Scriptures are filled with stories of God’s people who did not see the fulfilment of his promises in their lifetime. Yet they remained faithful. They waited and trusted, and waited and trusted some more. Oh, that we would learn from the quiet patience of these saints who have gone before us, believing in the character and Word of the God whose ways are higher than ours.
Nowhere is this displayed more powerfully than in the incarnation of Jesus Christ. In Galatians 4:4–5 we read, “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son . . . to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” The fullness of time, being 400 years after the last time God so much as spoke to his people through a prophet. Yet, according to God’s plan, this was not a moment too soon or too late. Desperate as we are for immediate results, I wonder if we can even comprehend what that season of waiting would have felt like?
Be encouraged that God is sovereignly working in your waiting. It is much sweeter to surrender control to him than to fight against his timing. May we humbly seek to honor our good God with our patience.
Hope
Yet, there is something in addition to patience that is needed for those in the midst of a desperate and agonizing season of waiting—hope.
Psalm 40:1-3 says,
I waited patiently for the Lord;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear,
and put their trust in the Lord.
Clearly, the psalmist is in a state of despair. A pit of destruction? A miry bog? Yes, this is often what waiting feels like to us. So, like David, we cry out to God. We pour out our heart to him and we wait. And this is the hope Scripture offers us: the Lord hears our cries, he is near to us, and he has the power to transform our sorrow into joy.
He hears our cries because he is our Father, and we are his children. Even though we may be met with supposed silence, we can be sure that his listening ear is turned toward us, and he is bottling up all our tears (Ps. 56:8). He is near to us because he has given us the Holy Spirit, his very presence. Even though we may feel alone in our waiting, God the Spirit dwells within us to comfort and assure us. And he turns our sorrow to joy when we look to the future, anticipating the return of our Savior, the long-expected Jesus. Even though our arms may fall heavy at our sides after carrying our burdens for so long, God will lift them up in praise as we remember his goodness and faithfulness and wait for the restoration of all things.
Action
So as to not become too consumed by our own circumstances, we are called to wait with action. In her book, Harrison Warren reminds us that we ought not get too comfortable in this temporary home, but should, instead, look for every opportunity to bring Christ’s kingdom to bear in this broken world. While this may sound intimidating, it will likely look quite ordinary. Warren writes,
We can never wrap our lives in little luxurious and petty comforts and so numb ourselves to God’s prophetic call for justice and wholeness in this world. Our hope for a future of shalom motivates us to press toward that reality, even in our ordinary days. Our work, our times of prayer and service, our small days lived graciously, missionally, and faithfully will bear fruit that we can’t yet see.” (112–113)
As we are being formed into the image of Christ through our personal seasons of waiting, it is imperative that we do not lose sight of the bigger picture. God’s people are called to display the image of Christ to those around us as we “seek justice, practice mercy, and herald the kingdom to come” (113).
In our fallen world, we will never wait perfectly. But it is my prayer that we can grow to be the kind of people who wait well—with a joyful patience, a hopeful demeanor, and a Christlike presence in our aching world.
Tessa Tangen and her husband Andreas live east of Vancouver in beautiful British Columbia. Tessa is on staff at her church, surrounded by people who help her to think about and love God well. Her fondness for tea, candles, good books, and long walks leaves her with no choice but to put pen to page. You can find her on Instagram.