Something I’ve come to realize over the years is that life is all about a season of waiting. You wait for the next day, the next hour, the next big thing to come about, then you wait again. Again for the next day, the next hour, the next big thing. It never ends.
I want to selfishly say that the past year of my life I’ve learned quite a bit about patience. No, I’m not perfect. No, I don’t have it all down. But I tasted it (patience that is, not perfection). There comes a time when you’re stuck in the depth of it, blinded by all your insecurities and unbelief that you can’t seem to even imagine a way out. Then, out of nowhere, you’re here. You’re where you’ve been waiting to be. You didn’t even think you were progressing, better yet moving at all, yet somehow, from some miraculous series of events, you’re here.
Except you’re still stuck with the question, where is here? I find myself at a continual place of waiting - God’s teaching me, sanctifying me, towards a new face of patience, one that I would have never thought to pray for. One that lets me see the hope that is to come, the ever-so-clear Point B of union with Him, yet patience in my walk, in our walk, in life. We might have hit a clearing in the woods, but we’re not quite There yet.
And although a greater Hope, a future Hope, might not be what I need now, He promises to awaken the soul. He gives us glimmers in our daily lives, in relationships, in flowers - digging down to the deepest parts of my soul and giving me life.
Who can love with such grandeur and such specificity? All praise, honor and glory to You alone.
Jeremiah 31. Read it.