Early on in my recovery, I asked the Lord how long it would take. His response was, “It will take however long it takes.” This is a frequent answer that I get when I ask Him how long. For seven months I couldn’t order at a drive-thru, I couldn’t make phone calls, talking made me tired (still does), I couldn’t be heard at a restaurant, I couldn’t lead my discipleship group, I couldn’t teach in kid’s church, and I struggled to finish my daughter’s last year of homeschooling. I tried to go back to normal but I was reminded every minute of my life that nothing was normal. Then one Sunday morning I was believing God for healing, and I heard the Holy Spirit speak to my heart and say, “Wait with me a little longer.” And that sparked something fresh in me.
Waiting with God is completely different than waiting on Him. Waiting with God is intentional, it’s productive, and it’s necessary. Waiting with God requires trusting Him. Waiting on Him is like waiting on a performance, waiting for your birthday, waiting for a vacation. Those things are great, but when we are waiting on the arrival of something our hope for joy, fun, happiness, surprise, and fulfillment are set on that event.
Waiting with God is setting our hope on Him and recognizing that He’s with us in the waiting, and what He offers to us in the wait is what life is really all about. Once the birthday is over, the vacation is over…the hope is gone. All we have left are memories. When we wait with God, His presence never fades. It’s never over.
Even now in this season, I am still waiting. I have not received my full healing. I still have a paralyzed vocal cord. A couple of months ago I had a procedure to plump it up, and now I can be heard. But it hasn’t fixed all the damage, and it will dissolve. My vocal future is still unsure, but I’ve learned that God still has things for me in this season. Things I need to embrace. I don’t want to be so focused on what I don’t have that I miss what I do. He has given me such freedom, joy, and peace in the middle of this. The inner works He’s doing have been worth far more than any outward healing.
In the waiting, God is working. He is doing miracles, but I think we look with such earth colored lenses that we fail to really see them. All around us. Every day. In every moment. We walk on water every time we do something that we couldn’t have done in our own strength. Every time we choose life. Every time we choose love in spite of our pain. We do the impossible every time we resolve to grow in the deep, dark soil where we’re planted. We triumph over our enemies every time we overcome. And what if the greatest of miracles is who we’re becoming on the way to our breakthroughs? What if we are the most miraculous works He’s performing? What if the most otherworldly thing we will ever encounter is the God of the universe putting His glory on display in jars of clay like us? That’s worth any wait.