How well do you wait? I know that patience is a fruit of the Spirit. Like the leaves about to bloom on the trees in the park, my patience is not yet fully developed. If yours is, I commend you. The Spirit will produce it in all of us, I know.
Imagine Noah and his family waiting in the ark. Forty days and forty nights of rain, followed by months of waiting for the water to recede. How does Noah know whether he can open the door of the ark? In the tenth month, they could see the mountain peaks. “Are we there yet?” Not yet. After forty days. Not yet. He waited seven more days. Not yet. Seven more days. Finally.
Sometimes, time seems to stand still. I hear it in the voices of our grandchildren. On Facetime, Thomas asks if he can come to our house. “Yes,” I respond. Thomas disappears and reappears with a suitcase. “Now,” he asks. His mom explains it is a five hour road trip to our house. They are not coming today but next week. Thomas weeps.
So many of my good friends are in God’s waiting room right now. Spouses have gone to be with Jesus. Someday, in Christ, we will see them again. “Now,” we think as we wait for Christ’s return. “Not yet.” And we weep. But someday, somehow the Spirit will bring not an olive branch but a leaf from the tree in Gilead. “There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole.” So we wait. Our hope grows. It will not be in vain.
