So Much Waiting

So much waiting. So much about Christmas, and about life, is waiting.

Many of us wait for Christmas all year. With expectancy. With hope.

But many of us also wait for Christmas to be over.

When the year has been full of hard places and the heart has been shredded like tissue, there is waiting. For brightness. For healing. For forgiveness. For love.

I have to say that so much of my life has been waiting.

And now as I wait some more, I reflect on how much of life everyone spends doing exactly that — waiting. Waiting for all kinds of things, from the commonplace to the glorious. We wait in traffic, we wait in grocery lines, we wait for coffee to brew, we wait for the doctor to call, we wait for paychecks, we wait for storms to pass, we wait for a baby to be born or an elderly, ailing loved one to die. We wait. We live in the middle of all kinds of waiting — small kinds of waiting and terribly large long ones.

We’ve all battled the seasons of waiting.

And the waiting can be tedious.

Waiting can hurt. It can be confusing.

When we’re waiting for communication, a positive word, a good diagnosis, an end to battles, a love that understands… waiting can feel empty and desperately lonely.

We think waiting can be a waste of time. We want to be doing.

For most of us, in our fast-pace, want-it-now, get-it-now world, we don’t like waiting.

And yet, in the moments when we get so exhausted and desperate in the waiting, God is right there to help us.

God wants us to benefit from our times of waiting with more desirable responses. Instead of becoming impatient, nervous, frustrated, or miserable, we can choose a better focus in our waiting:

With patience.

With quietness.

With trust.

With expectation.

With courage.

With hope.

In so many difficult seasons of waiting, I have learned this truth: God isn’t after my happiness but my highest good.

And waiting is part of that process.

So I keep leaning unto His understanding and not mine, to be stronger than I thought during this more and more waiting.

And for you, too, wherever this holy season finds you, even if you are in a season of waiting, I’m thinking of you. May you also be strong. May you have a sense of wonder, a heart of courage, and an abundance of grace to give and receive.

May you understand that Love came wrapped in swaddling clothes. That Hope came nestled in a manger.

May we all be victorious in our waiting.