Last week I was watching a college football game. It wasn’t one I particularly cared about, except in the impact it had on the standings, but I got caught up when it looked like the unranked underdog was going to knock off their ranked opponent. It got a bit stressful as the spread in the score narrowed. Then, with 54 seconds to go, the team I was rooting against took the lead. Nooooo! In frustration I turned off the game. I didn’t want to see the brutal ugly end. I didn’t want to hear the comeback stories from the victors. I wasn’t exactly a total poor sport, but I wasn’t pleased, either. The next morning I got the recap on my phone about all the games of the Top 25 teams. Imagine my absolute shock when I saw that the underdog team, with 54 seconds on the clock and an injured quarterback, ran six plays for 75 yards to actually win the game! I was now mad at myself for giving up so early. Again.
I have a habit of making snap judgments and assumptions, I’m afraid. I have missed out on a lot of exciting moments due to anticipating the outcome and acting as though that outcome had already happened. Patience and trust in miracles aren’t my strongest suits.
I’ve been thinking about how frequently this need for patience in the Lord’s timing occurs. Blessings don’t come when we expect them, so we give up based on the idea that if they weren’t there when we wanted then they weren’t going to come at all. Life can sometimes seem, to the impatient, like a living reenactment of Waiting for Godot, where we wait and wait and wait with no definitive conclusion or outcome. This is kinda stressful. I should know. I tend to feel this way a lot.
I have had interesting experiences in seeing the Lord’s hand in my life over and over – only usually not in the timing I’d expect and often after I’d given up believing the desired blessings were coming. I met Ben when I was 28 and had given up on getting married. Elizabeth was born 3-1/2 years after we were married, about the time I’d given up hope on having children. I have gotten jobs and opportunities at the very last possible moment, after I had given up hope of those opportunities opening up. I found my current home when it seemed that the doors were all closed. I am typically an optimist, but when a certain unidentifiable threshold is crossed, I give up. Take our trip to Europe this summer. It was supposed to be in 2020 and I believed with all of my heart that it was going to happen. I refused to cancel any of our reservations until the cancel-or-pay-full-price deadlines. We then decided to reschedule for 2021. I knew it was going to happen. Six weeks. Europe. Perfect. But then things didn’t open up and they didn’t open up. I gave up and became the personification of doom and gloom. And then, at basically the last moment, enough opened up for us to enjoy 2-1/2 weeks in Europe. It was perfect.
I have far too many stories that are similar, just in different categories. A good friend told me that I need to stop micromanaging the Lord. Ouch. Do we try to micromanage God? I think that for many of us that answer is a solid “yes.”
I never thought of myself as impatient, but recently I had the “opportunity” to read my elementary school report cards and almost all of my teachers commented on my impatience to just get through projects or assignments, anxious to move on to the next thing. This gave me a chance to look at my reactions to much of life. I read the back of the book to make sure the ending is happy; I demand to know early on the final outcome of movies I watch; I pray regularly for concrete answers about my future; etc. Waiting – patiently waiting – just is not my forte, apparently.
Soon after Ben died, I began taking long daily walks. Before this I had been too antsy to just enjoy an hour-long walk every day – or even frequently. I was always afraid that I would be missing something important if I was gone that long. During the year after Ben’s death, however, I slowed down. Part of that slowing down was taking these long walks. I had long talks with the Lord during these walks. I put my demands for immediate answers aside and reveled in the peaceful spirit I felt. I quit trying to force a timeline onto my future. As I did so, as I put my trust in God’s timeline, I found myself open to spiritual experiences that far outshone the more mundane experiences that I had once thought were most important. It was a powerfully moving time.
Unfortunately, life moves forward, and old habits can come back to haunt. I’m once again feeling impatient with the Lord. Recently I felt that I like giving up on getting the answers I so desperately desire. I found myself turning off the game, so to speak. I quit hoping for answers. I quit praying with as much fervor. I quit, to be perfectly honest, waiting on the Lord and His timing. I found myself, like John Milton, frustrated at my seeming lack of progress and usefulness and thereby giving up hoping to achieve the desires of my heart. I’ve had to give myself a stern lecture about remembering how the Lord always answers me – in His time and in His way.
Not losing hope doesn’t mean that I can expect things in my life to go the way I have scripted in my mind. It doesn’t mean that it won’t have some stress in the journey. Unfortunately. For me, a good ball game isn’t close. One team is so dominant that the outcome is clear early on and I can just relax. I do not like games that go down to the wire. So it is in life. I like to see the end from the beginning and I like to be confident in what’s coming next. The Lord, however, doesn’t operate that way. At least not with me. Not losing hope means that I trust that whatever God has in store for me will be glorious. Not losing hope means that I trust that God has me in the palm of His hand. Not losing hope means I don’t tune out before the victory is won but instead hold on until God Himself says that it is enough. As Winston Churchill said, “Never, never, never give up.” That is the essence of holding onto hope.
In the future I hope that I can bring myself to listen to the very end of the ballgame. My team might still lose, but at least I will know that I didn’t give up. There can be valuable lessons – even in losing. Win or lose, however, trusting in God and His timing through all moments of my life will allow me to have richer blessings than I can now imagine. Lead, Kindly Light. Lead Thou me on.
Look to God and Live... Joyfully! 