Why waiting is so hard—and so necessary—even though we hate it

By Mark A. Taylor

In this most unusual year, we’ve seen waiting lines like never before.

• Long rows of masked voters stood patiently, anticipating their chance to cast their ballot.

• Hundreds of cars coursed through make-shift lanes in giant parking lots, each driven by someone whose family needed food.

• Dozens of socially distanced people queued in columns that wound around the block from the entrances to Covid-19 testing sites.

Pounded with “wait”

These scenes are all the more remarkable in a culture that disdains waiting.

• Technology gives us whatever entertainment we want, when and wherever we want it .

• “No wait” is a compelling come-on for restaurants offering call-ahead seating or an app that will tell you exactly when your table is ready.

• A local hospital used to advertise emergency room wait times on a billboard close to my house. I’m guessing pandemic pressure today has expanded the wait into a no-brag zone.

But the pandemic is pounding us with other “wait” messages. The greatest is a headline on every news feed this week as we’re told how long we’ll still wait for a vaccine against the virus. Some of us, anxious for “normal,” will likely wait many more long months for the coveted injections.

Rushing past “wait”

Perhaps our longing for a cure can help us better understand the Biblical picture of waiting. Go to biblegateway.com, enter “wait” into the search field, and choose several of the texts in the resulting list. (Or click here to see what I mean.) How do you feel about the Biblical command to wait?

Our instinct may be to rush past these verses and move on to words we find more comforting. We, who make a science of choosing the shortest line at the grocery check-out, hate waiting.

But the Scripture’s command to wait pictures something different than the bored shufflers skimming their smartphones outside a polling site. Substitute “anticipate” or “watch” for “wait” in many of these verses, and you’ll better understand what God is commanding. Sometimes the word describes the duty of a watchman on a city gate. See him constantly scanning the horizon for some hint of the enemy. Notice his weapon ready to fend off an attack. Anticipate his orders to warn fellow citizens of any coming danger. His wait is work, not a listless time killer.

Weary of “wait”

Or think of how you feel about the coming promised vaccines and treatments. They can’t get here too soon. We’re ready for them this afternoon. But official voices tell us to be patient and to continue to protect ourselves against the disease. The cure is coming. Wait.

It’s difficult advice to follow. We’re tired of the precautions. We hate being restricted inside our homes and trying to breathe behind our masks. But considering the length of a lifetime, a span of several months—even this whole year—is only a fraction. We must believe the wait is worth it.

We must believe the wait is worth it.

And so it is with Christians weary of longing for God’s reckoning, the return of Jesus, the promise that someday all things will be new. The burden of sin-caused brokenness is as heavy as each day’s new pandemic death toll. How much longer before we see an end to hatred, greed, lies, and injustice? How can I continue to cope with dysfunction and disease and danger and death? The wait is a weight that sometimes seems far too much to bear.

But considering the span of eternity, our moment on earth is as fleeting as the mist from your disinfectant spray bottle. Even though we can only begin to imagine the relief and rejoicing just ahead in a world we don’t know, we must believe that the wait is worth it.

The peace of “wait”

I’ll quote just one verse that encourages me today: “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope” (Psalm 130:5). No earthly promise can inspire such peaceful confidence.

And then let me share parts of two prayers I discovered in a devotional guide I’m using this week:

Everlasting God . . . expand in me the great hope that one day I will be raised from this broken earth—changed in the blink of an eye—and that everything bent and bruised, curdled and corrupted, in me and this world, will be transformed into lasting goodness, righteousness, and truth. . . . In place of my faithless need to control, give me a watchful heart full of expectation and wonder.”

Below those prayers was the verse chosen for this week’s readings. It’s a good way to end this week for all of us as we continue to wait.

“Come, Lord Jesus. The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people” (Revelation 22:20, 21, NIV).

Photo from Amazon.com

Previous
Previous

Sunday review, November 30—December 5

Next
Next

Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble—and God’s remedy for a solution