Just Wait

We flew into Reno and spent the night, waking early as we were anxious to hit the road and get home to Bishop. The morning was still dark as I put the final items in my suitcase. I finished with a satisfying ZZZZIP and hummed a little going-home song.
But one glance out the window and my face fell as quickly as the snow outside. It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas in the worst way. Usually, we wouldn’t be concerned about driving in such conditions, but we were in a rental car, the tires of which slide like Disney on Ice.
We paced back and forth—Well, I mean, I paced while John click-click-clicked on local TV stations, hoping for just one renegade weather person with something nice to say. After pulling up every map, app, and hap-less forecast, we asked the Lord for His opinion. Do we take a chance and get on the road? Stay another night at the hotel and try to get some work done?
Both John and I sensed the answer was, “Just wait.”
Of all words in the English language (excluding medical terms and those pertaining to bodily functions), wait is my least favorite. And I doubt I’d like it any better in Italian or Swahili. Actually, it’s not the word I hate, but the definition: “to delay an action until something else happens.” Ugh. May as well be defined as, “an unproductive, non-efficient, total waste of time; dawdling around until something or someone gets their act together.”
Yeah. So there I am, sitting on my packed suitcase, coat in hand, looking at my cuticles, waiting. I could’ve found something a bit more productive, but then I’d have to mentally bend, yield, and knock one of my ducks out of the row.
Also, I like looking put-out. It’s kind of a honed skill.
On the other hand, I don’t like waiting for my mood to shift, so I usually just shrug and walk away from it. Food helps. John and I went down to the lobby for an extended breakfast, and within a few hours of performing menial but necessary tasks, we were in the car and on our way.
The drive home was blissfully boring, punctuated only by gunshots, thanks to Louis L’Amour and Utah Blaine on Audible. We rode into the sunset, and set our baggage down in the living room before dark, thankful for the Lord’s guidance, grateful we’d listened, and for the reward: HOME.
It got me thinking about the whole WAIT thing. Much of life is waiting—or not waiting and getting ourselves in trouble as a result. What if we DID wait? Waited to respond. Waited to learn how to love rather than quit love. Waited to develop a better approach to things and people; waited for a better me to emerge from lessons learned.
What would our lives look like if we trusted in the process God designed for us? Just as a child in the womb develops over a given time-frame, God has a time-frame too, for our development and maturity. Maybe if we were not so quick to abort, we’d come through the tunnel into abundant life.
God waits for us unruffled, I want to learn from Him. There are 85 verses with the word “wait” in the English Standard Version of the Bible, many of them telling us how, why and the resulting benefits, and also the dangers of impulsiveness. So, what are we waiting for?

Wait for the Lord, travel steadily along His path and He will honor you by giving you the land. Ps. 37:34, ESV, NLT

They wouldn’t wait for His counsel. In the wilderness their desires ran wild, testing God’s patience in that dry wasteland. So he gave them what they asked for, but a plague came with it. Ps. 106:14,15 NLT

photo of person pressing the button of pedestrian box
Photo by Lukas Hartmann on Pexels.com

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