"And I must borrow every changing shape to find expression." -- T.S. Eliot
“If any of us are inclined to despond, because they have not such patience, let them be of good courage; it is in the course of our feeble and very imperfect waiting that God Himself by His hidden power strengthens us and works out in us the patience of the saints, the patience of Christ Himself.”
— Waiting on God by Andrew Murray
I’ve been waiting on God a lot lately — waiting on Him for specific guidance and for certain opportunities, waiting on Him to reveal more of Himself to me so that I can find myself daily more satiated by His abiding presence, and waiting on Him in intercession for others (especially for those in my family who are still unsaved.)
In this waiting, I have noticed in myself a deep impatience and a frustration with the time God takes to reveal to us Himself and His will. There are days when I find myself complaining as I look ahead to the rest of my journey on earth and saying, “God, if it means another 60-odd years of waiting on You, waiting for You to work, waiting to see You, I don’t know if I can take it!” Then, the Holy Spirit — through a song or a verse or an intimation — quiets my frustrated heart with a deeper understanding of the joyful and intimate communion I can have with God during periods of waiting and I am humbled and convicted again of my natural impatience.
Unfortunately, my response to that conviction is often not the right one — I get frustrated with myself and indignant at the fact that “I still sin after being a Christian for so long,” rather than just repenting and asking for God’s mercy to help me start over. I get so tired of asking for God’s grace for messing up again that I erroneously try and fix my own sinfulness by my own — very feeble — strength. I wonder how He could He still love me after all my screw-ups so much so that the wonder begins to turn to doubt.
Yet the quote above reminds me that God sees my impatience and He doesn’t spit on me like I might when I see my own sin. Instead, because of Christ, He looks on me with grace (even when I neglect to ask Him to) and, like a father, He empowers me to keep holding on. It’s of great encouragement to me — as I hope it will be for you — that, because of Christ, God looks on us with love, not wrath, and doesn’t give up on us even when we’re in grave danger of giving up on ourselves.