“I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits…” (Psalm 130:5)
Lord Jesus, if getting into heaven depended on being excellent at fretless, patient, waiting, I’d have trust 100% on your grace. Thankfully, that’s the only way to have a relationship with you—no matter our failures, weaknesses, lack of righteousness. Indeed, salvation can’t be achieved, only received, for eternal life is a free gift. Thank you, Jesus.
Why do I hate waiting? For one thing, I’m impatient and like to get “in and out.” I’m also selfish, and like to finish stuff quickly and move on to what I really want to do. But I’m also fearful—especially about things over which I don’t have control, in the lives of people I do know and love.
It’s really hard—not knowing what the lab tests are going to say, what the scan is going to reveal, what the MRI is going to confirm. It’s vulnerability fueling—having good probabilities, but no guarantees—having other people’s stories of good outcomes, while the ink of our own stories is still wet. What will the procedure produce? What will rehab regain?
Jesus, though I am impatient, selfish, and fearful—more than anything else, I am yours. You are the LORD of tendons and tissue, tears and traumas, bones and brokenness, every stage of the “c”-word and ruptured relationships. Disks and spines, dark spots and deep longings are your domain. In fact, there’s nothing over which you aren’t sovereign. That doesn’t make life easy, but it does keep us sane.
We know in eternity we will loudly, joyfully proclaim, “Our God has done all things well!” But in this vulnerable moment, we look to you for grace and peace… but above all, we look to you and for you, Jesus. We trust and hope in you, not in statistical possibilities, or pleasant outcomes. So Very Amen.