If I were to make a list of my least favorite things to do, I'm pretty sure waiting would rank in the top five. There aren't many things I enjoy less than remaining in that agonizing place of staring my hopes and longings in the face and wondering how, and when, and if God will ever allow them to come true.
"Why doesn't anything just happen for me?" I often find myself grumbling, tired of waiting, tired of trying to hang onto hope as the months and years slip away and so many questions remain unanswered. I long for a breakthrough in a tedious career that does little to spark life in my heart. I struggle to find a meaningful purpose to center my life around. I wonder when God will finally bring the right man into my life to love and be loved by. I look inwardly at all the healing, growth, and freedom I've yet to experience and wish God operated on my timetable instead of his.
So many times I've begged God to finally reach down from heaven and move, speak, act, shine a light on my path. But so often when I go to him with my questions and restlessness, he doesn't reveal anything instantly. Yes, he brings hope, he renews my faith, and he gives me strength to keep going.
But in that gentle, quiet voice, he also speaks the words I've heard over and over again . . . my daughter, wait.
And so I do. And as the years pass by, I'm finally beginning to realize it's in these seasons of waiting and being still before God, pouring out my heart before him, that he does some of his greatest work. It's in the desert, the wilderness, the quietness that God can restore hope and vision and deepen my character. It's in waiting that I get to know God's heart more intimately and finally begin to realize he is my life.
Here are a few of the things I'm learning as I continue to walk through my own season of waiting.
Don't Try to Do Life Alone
There was a time when I struggled through life on my own, too scared and stubborn to let anyone in. Although meaningful relationships were the one thing I longed for above anything else, I was terrified of being rejected. And so I became known as the girl who never admitted a need, never burdened anyone with my problems. If there were tears to be cried, I cried them behind closed doors. If there were hurts and fears to be dealt with, I waited until no one else was around. I was the one everyone came to with their problems, but rarely would I risk letting them see the wounds in my own heart.