It is in the course of our feeble and very imperfect waiting that God himself, by his hidden power, strengthens us and works out in us the patience of the great saints, the patience of Christ himself. ~Andrew Murray
We are still waiting for the promise and we don’t know why.
We gaze into the future, afraid to blink, willing for the time of longing to end. We throw our hearts like stones into the distance, but we bring the distance no closer, and only make our own hearts hurt.
Once in a while we are given a glimmer of hope. But then hopes are dashed again, the promise fades away, as if shy. Why do dreams so often linger just out of reach?
Stories of Promise
The first chill of Autumn draws them close, hands stretched to the fire, children nestled beneath the folds of maternal robes. A silence falls as the storyteller chooses his spot, the broad sweep of stars his only spotlight.
The characters are familiar, the plots, like smooth stones. Should he leave out a word, or a syllable’s inflection, startled eyes will remind him. They know these stories like they know every freckle on their hard-worked hands.
His voice deepens, this will be a tale he wants imprinted on their hearts. Something important about God. Something they must hold tight to in their memories when the waiting is long, and the promise seems lost. When their tight-throated days end in restless slumber, when all the evidence shouts, “God has forgotten!”
Ah, tonight it will be Sarai and Hagar’s story we will hear.
Sarai’s bitter words resonate with their own, “You see, God has prevented the very promise he made. Barren, empty, dried-of-all-hope is my new name. If there is to be a child of the promise, it won’t be from this body. I refuse to wait any longer for my own blessing. There is another way and I will take it.”
Around the fire, they sigh. They know how things will turn out, when God’s people take matters into their own hands. God will once again clean up the mess, though lives will be left limping. One more time he will remind them,
Waiting is not wasting. Don’t rush ahead of the promise. Trust me–watch what I will do.
Our Stories
Thousands of years later, we sigh too. Some of us live in the autumn of early spring’s promise, and God is taking his time.
He is taking his time, re-shaping our wills, saving us one promise at a time.
Are you ever tempted to take matters into your own hands?
(Sarai and Hagar, Genesis 16)
