I am once again in a serious season of waiting.
And it feels like I'm waiting on everything. A job. Health insurance. Finances. Wisdom. Infertility treatment. Adopting again.
At a time when (to my selfish heart) it feels like everyone else is moving forward at the speed of light, with good things spilling over their proverbial plates, I am stuck. Trying not to get swept down into bitterness and despair when I should be shouting with gratitude and singing songs of praise. And to make it worse, I am at home...alone...a lot...with nothing to do but stew about the fact that I am sitting here alone...a lot...with nothing to do.
And yet I'm not really alone. And it hits me that maybe this time to be still is a precious gift. And so I try to use it wisely and invest in the most important relationship in my life. My relationship with the One who formed me and knew me before I was born.
Exactly two years ago I blogged about God's perfect timing as we were just a few months into the adoption process...and a few weeks before we would find out that I was pregnant. I hope you'll go back and read it because it's really good (and no, not because I think I'm the most interesting blogger around, but because almost all of it was quoted from someone else that I really admire).
In a nutshell it says this.... We can take comfort in knowing that the same power of timing which affected the events of Christ's birth also operates in the circumstances of our individual lives.
Christmas, the celebration of Christ's birth, is the perfect time to think about God's timing and the inevitable waiting that we must all do. And I am reminded that the sovereign God of the universe knows what He's doing. Even when I don't. Even when I feel like I can't possibly wait even one more minute. Even when I feel like Sarah, well beyond the point of possibility.
If we'll rest in God's goodness and trust His perfect, sovereign timing, we'll be able to say along with David, "My times are in your hands" (Psalm 31:15). Even when the hourglass seems to be running out and waiting proves the most difficult work we do. ( from Lazarus Awakening by Joanna Weaver)
Can anyone relate?