More In The Waiting

My dear friend Amy asked me to attend a concert with her on Saturday night. Bethany Dillon is one of Amy’s musical heroes, so she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hear Bethany since she’d been on a two year musical vacation after the birth of her first child.

Bethany opened for her husband Shane (of Shane and Shane). She played a simple song set—I think only four songs—and she talked about the songs that she sang—sharing bits of her story in between the singing—and, well, she was just great. I truly appreciate singer/songwriters who create from the depths of who they are. She is one of those. And I’m really glad I got to hear her play over the weekend.

The last song she played was a new song; it hasn’t been recorded so I can’t link it here or post the lyrics. But I can say this: it was about waiting and it was inspired by the simple statement, “God can do more in our waiting than our doing can do.”

I’ve been thinking about that statement since Saturday night. I like it. I think it’s deeply profound. Yet I’m not exactly sure how it’s to be lived because I’m not exactly sure how to wait without doing. I suppose we shouldn’t do things for the sake of busyness. But doesn’t life—and even call—demand that we do something—even while we wait?

For instance: When I was in high school, I waited on God to show me where I should go to college. But in the waiting, I had to continue with classes, put in applications, and go to interviews. I couldn’t simply stay at home and wait for the mail to arrive and the way to be made clear. In college, I waited on God to show me where I should go after graduation. But in the waiting, I had to do my part to be prepared for life after college. I couldn’t simply live the high life and wait for a position to land in my lap.

So how do we wait on God?

Or is waiting on God not really waiting at all?

Is waiting on God actually the active process of being formed into who we need to be for the next season of our lives?

Is waiting on God actually the process of living?

I don’t know. But I do know this:

I love Psalm 13. I love its honesty. I love the writer’s raw cry of desperation. I love the very real question, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?” And I love the ending when the psalmist basically says, “I don’t know how long, God. But I’m gonna keep singing your praises anyway. I’m gonna keep singing and trusting and hoping and loving anyway…because you love me…and I love you.”

And, well, I think that’s how I want to wait.
No…actually….I think that’s how I want to live.