Yesterday I was going through my old blog posts on the old blog site, and I came across two articles I’d posted about working on my patience.
Apparently I’ve always struggled with this.
I’m a hurry-it-along type of girl who loves for everything to happen ON TIME in the RIGHT WAY. I make lists every day, hate being late, and when things go smoothly with no mess it makes me SO happy.
But things don’t always get done like I plan, sometimes I’m late, and sometimes things definitely do not go like I expected them to.
Some of you may know I’m “overdue” to have my baby. Her expected due date was over a week ago, and although I never once expected her to come early or even on the date my pregnancy app insists she was supposed to make her grand appearance, it still is a bit disappointing that she isn’t here for me to goo-goo and and stare at yet.
I halfway expected her to be born sometime last week. I slightly expected to have her in my arms and not my belly by now. But she was not, and she is not. She is still comfortably curled up inside me, making the whole world (it seems) wait… and wait… and wait for her birth day. I’m totally okay with her taking her time. If she needs these extra days to grow out her lovely fingernails and hair (if she’s got any locks to show), fine. I love having her so close to me 24/7. It’s the most precious feeling ever, and I’m soaking up these last moments, days, and weeks of having her there.
BUT sometimes the waiting gets hard. And I know many women who went waaaaay over their “due dates,” and I tell myself that it’s completely normal. Because I know it is. Some babies take longer than others, and I suspect some just enjoy the perfect dark, quiet, and warmth that they can only get while in the womb. And I get that. I’m not sure I’d want to leave either, with it being so cold and wet outside these days.
So. Back to what I was saying earlier about those two older posts. In one of the articles I quoted a poem by an unknown author. It speaks of learning patience because God sees fit that we sometimes need a good lesson on it (which I’m sure I must be getting now). And it’s SO good. I encourage you to read it, and I’ll stop my rambling now.
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pleaded and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the Master so gently said, “Wait.”
“Wait? You say ‘wait’?” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have You not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I’m claiming Your Word.
“My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and You tell me to wait?
I’m needing a ‘yes’, a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to which I can resign.
“You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord, I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking! I need a reply.”
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, “Wait.”
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting for what?”
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine,
And He tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
“I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You’d have what you want, but you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of My love for each saint.
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint.
“You’d not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there.
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.
“You’d never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
“The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
“You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I’m doing in you.
“So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know Me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait.”
Have a blessed day!