I’ve been reminded lately that things take time. . .
Not long ago, I shared that my family was praying about the possibility of moving to the west coast. My wife applied to two different positions in California. We asked our dearest and closest friends to pray for God’s guidance and direction. Well, what has happened since then?
Not much. . .
Keep in mind that my wife is incredibly qualified in her field, so the fact that we haven’t received any response from these employers is at least a little surprising. All of this led me to ask my wife, “How would you feel if they were not interested in your resume. Would you be disappointed?”
She replied, “Well I guess that this might be some indication of God’s will.”
**********************************
When we left our old Southern Baptist Church (of fifteen years) and started attending the Greater Boston Vineyard almost two years ago, we were spiritually burned out. Coming to the Vineyard was one of the best things we could have done. Here at the Greater Boston Vineyard we were invited to meet a God who plain and flat out loved us, a God who speaks to us and a God who can heal both our physical and emotional hurts. It was a breath of fresh air.
Nevertheless, in the time since my arrival at the Vineyard, I have come to realize that while God is much more alive to me now and present to my circumstances, I am still essentially the same person, with the same hang ups and the same questions. I still wonder about God’s call for my life. I still long to develop deep and close relationships. I still wonder how God can use me. I do feel as if God is moving me in the right direction with this blog and yet I still find myself asking the same questions.
**********************************
One of the big issues for our family these past two years was about forgiveness. Coming from an abusive church environment we did not want our lives to be consumed by anger and bitterness. The Vineyard was a huge help for us in this area, because it seemed as if every other message touched on issues of reconciliation and forgiveness. Programs like Transformation Weekend and Living Waters were all aimed at helping us work proactively through our emotional pain and hurts.
In my opinion, forgiveness is probably one of the most discussed and least understood topics among Christians Why? It’s because forgiveness can only be understood through the window of hurt and betrayal. At my old Southern Baptist church they would often see unforgiveness, bitterness and anger as a matter of disobedience to God, or matter of factly as in “just do it (forgive)”, rather than see these things compassionately as a response to hurt and pain. What is often missed is the understanding that forgiveness really is unnatural. Loving your enemy is unnatural. This is what makes God’s love for us so amazing.
Over the last few years, I’ve learned a lot about forgiveness. Among the many lessons that I’ve learned about forgiveness is that it takes time and that it is often a process. While it involves a conscious and deliberate act, we cannot simply turn a switch on our emotions and feelings. If it were only this easy!
The bottom line is forgiveness sometimes takes time.
**********************************
Each of the above thoughts is a reminder to me that sometimes life is about waiting.
In Seasons for Your Heart: Prayers and Reflections, Macrina Weiderkehr writes about the Sacrament of Letting Go. In this devotion she talks about Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount when he tells us to trust in God for our needs.
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? (Matthew 6:25-26)
Weiderkehr shares about this passage from the perspective of an autumn tree. Autumn is one of the most beautiful seasons here in New England, but for the trees it is also a season of loss and emptiness since once stripped of their foliage they are forced to remain in waiting.
Weiderkehr writes:
And then the sacrament of waiting began.
The Sunrise and sunset watched with tenderness.
Clothing her with silhouettes
they kept her hope alive.
They helped her understand that her vulnerability
her dependence and need
her emptiness
her readiness to receive were giving away to a new kind of beauty.
In the end, God does care about the trees stripped of their leaves, as He cares about the wild flowers and as He cares about me.
I love Wiederkehr’s expression, “the sacrament of waiting.” Lately it seems to me that life is a lot about waiting and about emptying. My heart sometimes chafes at the waiting and at what seems the emptiness or bareness of it all. It’s hard to be empty and it can be an uncertain and uncomfortable feeling. Yet as Weiderkehr reminds me, maybe there is a purpose in the waiting. God can be present in this space as He calls on me to trust Him. This isn’t idle time or time that is somehow wasted. There is a blessing or a “sacrament” of waiting. It’s a place where God calls on me to talk to Him, to slow down, be less concerned about progress and be more interested in what He is doing in my heart during this season of my life.
