The Wait

I absolutely hate to wait.

Yes, I tend to be an impatient person. I prefer to take things into my own hands, to my own peril at times, and thinking that I have done all I can that whatever that needs to be done is done efficiently and effectively (self-perceived).

Now I am in that state of waiting, waiting for the next step to take, next move to make. All I am hearing is the word WAIT.

I think waiting on the Lord, is the toughest spiritual discipline to do.

I know spending that waiting time in His presence, seeking His face, speaking to Him is not wasted.

If you are like me at this moment of your life, waiting on God to tell you what is the next step to take, read this poem. Hope it will give you some clarity (it did for me) why sometimes He makes us wait.

WAIT

Desparately, helplessly, longingly, I cried:

Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,

And the Master so gently said, "Child, you must 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 am claiming your Word.

My future and all to which I can relate

hangs in the balance, and YOU tell me to WAIT?

I'm needing a 'yes', go-ahead and sign,

or even a 'no' to which I can resign.

And Lord, You promised that if we believe

we need but to ask, and we shall recieve.

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 repied once again, "You must wait."

So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taught

and grumbling to God, "So, I'm waiting… for what?"

He seemed, then, to kneel, and His eyes wept 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.

All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.

You would 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 the 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 were all you could see.

You'd never experience that fullness of love

As the peace of My Spirit decends like a dove;

You'd 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 asked

Of the infinte 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 dreams for your loved one overnight would come true,

But, Oh, the Loss! If I lost what I'm doing in you!

So, be silent, My Child, and in time you will see

That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me.

And though oft' My answers seem terribly late,

My most precious answer is still, "WAIT."

Author Unknown

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