while I’m waiting

We are all waiting for something.  Waiting for the weekend.  Waiting for vacation.  Waiting for a raise. Waiting for our call-back date.

Waiting to have kids.  Waiting for them to go to school. Waiting for the kids to come home.  Waiting for them to go back.

We’re waiting for the day to start.  Waiting for the day to be over.  Waiting for tomorrow.

We’re waiting for things to get easier.  Waiting for things to go back to normal.   Waiting for relief.  Waiting for a break.

Waiting… waiting… waiting…

If we’re not careful, we can let waiting wear away at what should be permanent.  A long season of waiting can carve away at our hearts until we end up with a grand canyon of the soul.

I can relate to that.  I don’t wait well.  I don’t wait well in line at the bank.  I don’t wait well in line at the stoplight.  I don’t wait well for answers to prayer.  Short waits make my muscles tense up, long waits make my faith weary and my vision shortsighted.

I remember a time in my life when I was very confident.  Disappointment, though it was constantly knocking at my door, wasn’t allowed entry into my psyche.  I didn’t have much faith, but what I did have I got out of my pocket very regularly.  It was enough to get me through each day.  I didn’t have enough faith to make it through 365 days.  I just had enough for one.  And I got it out, every day, for over 4 years.  Faith of a mustard seed really can move mountains.  Sometimes, they move one grain of sand at a time.  It doesn’t feel like the mountain is moving.  But you can see it moving, verrrrrrry slooooooowly.

I have learned that my faith had a limit.  Somewhere along the waiting trail I grew weary and stopped getting that faith out of my pocket each day.  I believed God for something.  I used to say I had a vision for my life, but actually I think the vision had me.   I was running on all the steam I could muster for a good long while. But then, gradually, I replaced faith with something I called “reality.”

I looked around me.  I saw Peter’s wind and waves.  I became sullenly aware of my lack.  I looked at others, whose lack I didn’t see so glaringly.  I re-interpreted my dream through the eyes of my own frailty.  And I let the water of time begin to wash away my mountain of faith one grain of sand at a time.  It was a canyon of disappointment and regret.

Hebrews 11.1 says “Faith is a substance.”  I particularly like it as it is here.  Faith is like a deed of ownership to something promised.  Faith makes fact out of what we know, but can’t yet see.

Now I am personally facing an amazing realization of a vision 20 years old in my heart.  I allowed doubt and disappointment to create a canyon, one self-rejecting thought at a time.  And God is now filling in that space with a color of His grace that leaves me speachless.

If you have ever done this, or if you are doing it now… if you have ever “given in” to disappointment, you need to know something about the Grace of God.  Sometimes we think that the realization of our dreams is paramount.  But God is into more than making dreams come true, or turning faith into reality.  God is into revealing himself in our lives, so that we can reveal Him to others along the way.

There is a substance that God pours into the cavities of our canyons of doubt.  Where we used to have faith, and now we are empty, God pours his grace.   Without faith it is impossible to please God, after all, because we must first believe He exists and cares enough to respond to those who seek Him.  But even when we lose faith in one particular area of our lives, God seems to want to reveal something more Him than us.   I’ve realized it is not my faith that keeps me in Him; my faith isn’t strong enough.  I’ve realized it is not my faith that coerces God to answer my prayers; God won’t be manipulated.

Eventually, if you fall exhausted because your faith is all worn out and hasn’t carried you through the valley of doubt, you’ll discover that God’s love for you hasn’t diminished.  Our ability to say “I believe you, God”, is powerful, yes.  But it doesn’t change God’s final love-stamp on the world.  Through Jesus, God still says “I love you, kiddo.”

Faith costs us something.  Sometimes we have to give up excuses.  Sometimes we have to give up our plans.  When we give up what we think is ours in return for what is His, we have real life and no regrets.

Doubt costs us something.  It costs us time.  It costs us opportunities.  When we give up faith and turn to our understanding (or reasons), we can lead ourselves to disappointment, disillusionment, and regret.

But God is the same through it all.  I could say I wasted time doubting.  But I don’t want to paint with colors that resemble regret.  Instead, I will say that I am more deeply humbled by the willingness of God to pour His grace into my canyon.  And I’m going to swim in it.  Humbly skinny-dipping in my own private Reservoir of Grace.

We are all waiting for something.  The promise of next week.  The promise of face-to-face.  So here’s something to think about while we’re waiting.