"Mom, don't you think it's time to quit? You've been working for two years to get these books and videos published. It's okay to let go and move on."
I laid my head on the desk, crying quietly.
"I wish I could, Noel. But there's a relentless nudging in my soul that tells me I can't quit.
"I believe this nudging is from Jesus."
"But don't you think Jesus sees how hard you have tried to complete this project?"
Praying silently, I implored the Lord: "I've tried hard, really hard, Lord! But I'm tired of waiting. Do you want this single-parent curriculum to be published or is it just my ambition?"
I felt like a nagging young child, pestering her parent with the same request over and over. I wanted to do God's will, but I was exhausted. And deep inside I wanted to quit. I progressed from pestering the Lord to a full-blown temper tantrum. Yet his grace provided me a spacious place at his throne where I could be real.
Several months later, on a blustery fall Sunday morning, I arrived late for church. Everyone was standing to sing "I Have Come to Praise the Lord," but I barely could sing. I was about to lose it when I heard the still small voice say, "Come away with me, Barbara."
I left the sanctuary and drove to my favorite park, where I walked to "my" bench and opened my Bible. The wind flipped the pages, but when it stopped, I looked down and saw Isaiah 66:9: "'Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?' says the Lord." My tears began to flow. God understood that the work I had done on my curriculum for single parents was like carrying a baby to term and then not being able to give birth. I realized at that moment that somehow the Lord was going to bring it to delivery. Still, the waiting was not easy.1