On Waiting

Waiting.  Such a shared human experience.  Some waiting is a mild irritation – waiting for a parking space.  Waiting for your number to be called at the DMV center.  But some waiting tears at your soul.  Struggling with infertility and waiting for a baby.  Longing to be married and waiting for a spouse.  A severed relationship with a loved one and waiting for reconciliation.  Why is waiting so agonizing?  As I’ve waited these past months for renewed energy, I have found waiting difficult because it exposes my lack of control.  Control.  Oh how I love to feel in control.  When I think I’m in control, I feel strong, competent, at ease.  But when the tilt-o-whirl begins to spin and I don’t know when it’s going to stop or what kind of shape I’ll be in when it does finally stop, well then I feel vulnerable, uneasy, anxious. In the place of waiting, I am required to surrender.  I remember God’s promise that he is ‘working all things together for good’ (Romans 8:28) and I know in my head that that is true, but it would sure help if God would let me in on his plan in the meantime.  “Just how will these things that I’m going through work toward good?  And just how long will this process take?  If you could clue me in on those things now Lord, I’d be good to go.”

Developing faith muscles is no less arduous than physical muscles. Probably more so.  We sing about ‘walking out upon the waters’ and ask the Spirit ‘to lead us where our faith is without borders’.   But when we’re there – on the waters – choosing faith is a battle.  I’ve been struck with gratitude these past months that not only does God provide the object of my faith – Jesus Christ.  In his mercy, He also many times enables the act of faith as well.  Too often I have had my headspace filled with self-absorbed ‘what if’s.  Drowning in a sea of morose possibilities.  Then the Spirit, in his mercy, reorients my mind by a brother or sister sending me a verse of hope.  Or beautiful lyrics to a song.  Or the life-giving story of a brother or sister victorious in a spiritual battle.  It’s as if God takes my downcast head in his hands and gently lifts it up to see Jesus.  That is the place of ‘walking on water’:  No control, but peace in the ‘eyes on Jesus’ place.  Fix them, hard and fast.

I just finished reading a remarkable book that’s filled with riveting stories.  It reads like the book of Acts.  Miracle upon miracle.  Fleeing ISIS, Finding Jesus tells us the stories of Jesus-followers in Iraq and Syria today.  Some have grown up in Christian communities, others have come to follow Jesus from a Muslim background (and there are thousands – more everyday).  But each story presents a life that has been stripped of any semblance of control.  People have fled homes, possessions, loved ones – some fleeing barefoot with no time to find their shoes.  They dwell in a place of limbo – waiting in moldy, dank apartments or flimsy tents in IDP camps.  They wait.  And they wait.  No control over their future.  But, many wait with remarkable purpose.   As one brother said, “I’ve seen that there’s a depth of relationship with God that only comes out of our being persecuted and having to rely fully on Him.”  And they’re courageously spreading the truth of Jesus in the camps, in the apartment complexes – while they wait.  These brothers and sisters have encouraged me to ‘wait intentionally’.  Surrender control.  Fix eyes.  And sow the seed.

Bio:

Cheryl Nelson is married to Goshen's senior pastor, Peter.  A few of her favorite things include sharing in gospel ministry with her husband, hanging out with her children, hiking an Adirondack trail surrounded by fresh pines and a hot latte from Burlap and Bean.