Often, we must take a number and sit in God’s waiting room. We may be desperate for Him to break through; to put things to right; to rescue us; to perform miracles; to do it NOW! Instead, it feels like He is “off in the back somewhere” and not aware of, let alone particularly interested in, our problems. So we sit alone or with a friend or family member in His waiting room, sometimes for months, even years, listening to elevator music, marking time, and wondering when God will show up.
Waiting on God can seem like a penalty, perhaps even the consequence of having disappointed Him in some way. When in His waiting room, it helps to remember that sometimes God withholds the good He intends for us, for a season, in order to prepare us to receive His gifts. It also helps to remember His promises: If even despicable men give their children good gifts, how much more will our perfect Father give perfectly valuable gifts to His children who are asking? These two acts of remembering can go a long way toward fueling hope during an extended stay in God’s waiting room. Here is another vital strategy - check out what God has in His magazine rack.
Especially in the days before iPhones, I would sign in at the doctor or dentist’s office and then seek out some reading material. I might grab a magazine to which I would never subscribe, perhaps even something I would never choose to read outside the waiting room. But given the choice between boredom and reading a magazine about fishing, food, or forestry, I regularly chose the latter. I was often amazed by things I learned that I would have never otherwise known.
God often uses our time in the waiting room to show us things that cannot otherwise be discerned. In the previous post, I recounted how God kept us in His waiting room for years. Our son diligently applied for hundreds of jobs. Not once in the span of almost four years did a prospective employer say, “We want you!” Over and over, He was rejected.
As Austin’s father, it was excruciating to witness. This rejection was so profoundly out-of-step with my own assessment of my son. On our children’s birthdays, we give them their “birthday blessing.” My words to Austin during a birthday celebrated in God’s waiting room capture whom I knew him to be:
Here are some of the things I appreciate and admire in You:
- You have a robust conscience. You are strong in your desire to do whatever you are convinced is right.
- You have sought the Lord even as you have gone through deep waters.
- You love Scripture and love to discuss how it applies to our lives.
- You are willing to do hard things when God asks.
- You have sought to honor Mom and me by supporting us in the ministry at CBC.
- You are an amazing teacher - patient, gentle, and nurturing.
- You are a gifted musician - I marvel at your ability to sprinkle jewels on a song.
- You are passionate about the Lord and truth.
- You are teachable and responsive to our counsel. You are willing to receive from others who have something to contribute.
- You are a good friend - so many have been on the receiving end of your commitment to be true to them.
- You understand what confession and forgiveness are about!
- You are a disciplined individual who makes it a priority to do what is most important each day.
- You are my true friend.
What a joy and honor to call you my son and to celebrate a year of growth and a new year to come!
The bottom line was that I knew my son to be a good man. Not a perfect man, to be sure, but a good man. Yet the consistent response from every possible employer was unequivocal rejection.
I remember crying out to God and protesting, “How much more can he take? I am so tired of my son being rejected.” I cannot explain this, but it was as if God answered, “Tell me about it!” I gasped at the thought. My experience was mirroring God’s. He was allowing me, in some small way, to experience something of what He Himself felt. To be sure, His Son was not just a good man; He was perfect. And the rejection of Jesus was not just about a job but a cross: “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and be killed” (Mark 8:31). In that moment, I caught a glimpse of the pain of the Father.
As I looked through my experience to the Father's, I connected the dots between His pain and His love. Unlike me, God had chosen this pain. God loved me (and you!) enough to knowingly and consciously commit His Son to the supreme rejection of men. The pain I was feeling was God’s pain, but a pain He chose for Himself, in order to claim me. The anguish of soul that I would wish away God elected for Himself, in the name of love. In the quietness of God's waiting room, this breathtaking picture filled me with awe. I saw something precious and encouraging I would never have seen otherwise.
Psalm 9:10
"And those who know Thy Name will put their trust in Thee;
For Thou, O Lord, hast not forsaken those who seek Thee."
This verse has been an anchor for me, as I have sought the Lord during a long period of waiting. The pain is real, but I know His Name, and put my trust in His perfect and trustworthy character. Still waiting....
Posted by: Lilly | June 02, 2014 at 09:54 PM
I once heard that if you ask God for patience, he won't give you patience, but rather the opportunity to be patient.
Thank you, Jim, for the time and effort you put into LightWork. I appreciate it and always look forward to reading your next post.
Doug
Posted by: Douglas Tiffany | June 03, 2014 at 10:09 AM