I’m inpatient. But we all are. In our flesh at least. We’re impatient imperfect control freaks. Last night at prayer, most of us took at least an hour in silence waiting on God to move. And He did. In different ways in each of our hearts. Several verses came to me as I was meditating, but I could not bring myself to stop thinking about the idea of waiting.  My whole has been and will be about waiting for things. There are several things I’m waiting on now – a man of God to pursue me, God to tell me about what He has planned for my future and for God to wreck my family and show them how to live for Him, and Him alone. Essentially, I could be waiting on these things for years.

The question is, how will I wait for them? Will I put my hope in these things, waiting for my “life to start”? Will I worry and wait with anxiety, wanting them now and not rejoicing in the present? Or, will I wait in expectation, eagerly waiting to see the Lord work, but knowing that ultimately, God is here and now? I pray that I can do the latter because God is here. He is now. He is working, even when I can’t see it, or I can’t feel it.

I love food metaphors, English Club in Chicago forced me to get creative with how to describe Jesus things to international students, and it’s a habit I haven’t been able to break. Last night I started to realize that the things I’m waiting on are like the rainbow sprinkles on top of a wonderful ice cream sundae. Each thing I’m waiting on is like a singular sprinkle, just a tiny, minuscule topping on something already so beautiful and great. Yes, I just compared Jesus’ death on the cross and my salvation to an ice cream sundae… there’s freedom, right? God longs to give me good things, but not so that I can forget the great things He’s already given me.

So will I wait? Yes. Will I wait with joy? I pray that the Spirit empowers me to. Is the Lord worth waiting for? Without a doubt.