MENU

Waiting and Writing

Two years ago, a friend sent an email.  Her Spirit-inspired message allowed a mix of relief, joy, and peace to wash over my weary little heart.

She asked God for a word.  One that was just for me.  Story, she said.  Five letters that I could virtually grab onto with my five fingers, guiding the pen on the page. And with each ink scratch, my story is being formed.  Now, finally, I’m brave enough to start telling it.

Her email followed an emotional Sunday and a rare moment of letting walls down and inviting prayer in.  Not my own secret whispers.  Prayer from other women.  We were nearly four years into our wait for a family – it was the first time I ever acknowledged the pain and asked for prayer.

The pastor’s message was the entirety of Proverbs 30, but I was stuck on two verses:

There are three things that are never satisfied, four that never say ‘enough!’
the grave
the barren womb
the earth not satisfied with water
and the fire never says ‘enough!’
– Proverbs 30:15-16

The theme?  Covetousness.  Not being content.  Not being satisfied with what you have.  I sat in the crisp morning sunshine on an early October day and groused inside.  That’s unfair.  Then I blamed the writer.  Of course he would say that… a man wrote it.  He could never understand.  It was the same thing Hannah’s husband said to her in 1 Samuel 1 in response to her weeping.  Not eating.  And grieving the womb God had closed. Aren’t I better to you than then sons?!

And then the grousing passed and the gult set in.  Just seconds before, we looked at verse five.

Every word of God is pure; He is a shield to those who put their trust in Him.
– Proverbs 30:5

As the service ended and the people departed, I found my friends and asked for prayer.  And one casually referenced Proverbs 30:2: Well the author does begin by saying ‘surely I am more stupid than any man’…

We laughed.  The frustration faded.  My countenance became brighter.  But there was one truth in all of it.  During worship the man on the stage led the people in the crowd and five words struck one chord in my heart.

Jesus is enough for me.

As frustrating as it was to read that the barren womb is never truly satisfied, Agur was right.  It is always crying out for more.  It is never content, and never will be content, until it is filled and fruitful.

The next morning, I was given my five letter word – a word that has meant so much to me already as I’ve thought over the years how this story of mine will be told.  It was especially on my mind as I drove home from the NICU a handful of months prior.  There, I met a miraculous little girl that dramatically impacted the lives of her doctors and nurses.  I had the privilege of telling her story with my camera through the Pictures of Hope Foundation.  As I drove home from our session together, I cried.  For the first time, it was not for what I didn’t have.  They were tears of joy that came from an understanding that someday I will have my own miracle story to tell.

Through all this waiting and all these tears, He is writing my story.  Knowing that He’s doing something causes me to hope.

Hope.  Expectation.  To await.  Hope and waiting are always intertwined.  Deeply connected.  It’s impossible to hope for something without waiting for it.  Over and over, Scripture pushes hope.

 Let Your mercy and loving-kindness, O Lord, be upon us, in proportion to our waiting and hoping for You.
– Psalm 33:22 (amplified version)

Those that make God’s promises their portion may with humble boldness make them their plea.  Lord, is not that the word which Thou has spoken; and wilt Thou not make it good?’ … God, who had given David a promise in the Word had by His grace, wrought in him a hope in that promise and enabled him to depend upon it, and had raised his expectations of great things from it.  Has God kindled in us desires towards spiritual blessings, and will He not be so kind as to satisfy those desires?  He will not disappoint us…
– Matthew Henry

Thank You LORD that You are so intimately acquainted with me and with my heartache.  Thank You that You see.  You know.  You understand.  And if I wait just a while longer… You will reveal it all.  The plan.  The purpose.  Everything.

Teach me to wait.

Add a comment...

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *