When Spring Comes Slowly

We’ve lived in the south for almost seven years now and I still marvel at how spring unfolds here. After living in S. Florida for so long, where there is only one season—summer—I just love to watch the trees bud and flower. I love the color that bursts on scene, pushing away the grey of winter. I love being a witness to new life.

Where I live, spring begins its arrival sometime in February (though this year I spotted some in late January) with the daffodils. All of a sudden, my neighbor’s yards had spots of yellow pop out of the ground. They stood in cheery contrast to the brown grass and dead leaves around them. Then the tulip trees bloomed in their purple glory. This weekend, I noticed the tiniest of buds on my Merlot Redbud tree my son helped me plant this past summer.

Each week I wonder, what will bloom next?

While there’s a date on the calendar when spring officially arrives, in reality, it comes on slowly. I know the leaves on my backyard trees won’t be full and green until mid to late March. My azalea bush and dogwood tree won’t peak until April. Each arrives in its own time.

The Bible uses many agrarian illustrations and metaphors to point to spiritual truths. It talks about faith in terms of seed, plant growth, and harvest. It describes our union with Christ to be like that of vines and branches. Jesus compares the evidences of one’s faith to that of fruit from a healthy tree. Such illustrations made sense to those in ancient times where most people were farmers. They lived off the land and understood the seasons of sowing and harvesting. For those of us who can’t keep a simple house plant alive and who pick our apples, not from a tree but from the neatly stacked rows in the produce section of the local grocers, these illustrations take more work to understand.

But I think spring gives us that opportunity to watch and learn how God works in our lives.

Spring reminds us that growth takes time and that we often have to endure the dark days of winter first. My son’s Civic Club planted hundreds of daffodil bulbs last fall in front of his school. Many months those bulbs remained in the quiet darkness. Above ground, it seemed like nothing was happening. But underground, even in the cold of winter, growth was taking place. This is true in our lives. God is still at work even when we don’t feel it. Even in the darkest days, he never ceases his work in us. “…for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:13). Spring is a reminder that growth in our own lives and in the lives of others is a process. And we remain a work in process until the day that Christ returns.

Spring also reminds us that there is an end to our waiting. There’s an expiration date to the dark and dreary days of winter—and to the shadows of sorrow cast upon our life. It’s an annual reminder that life rises on the other side of death. What we experience now is temporary; the joy of eternity awaits.

Spring reminds us of this hope:

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:3-7).

So, when spring comes slowly, may it remind us of how God works in our lives. Because he is at work. Always. The fruit will come in its time. The glory awaits. Just watch and see.

Photo by Михаил Павленко on Unsplash

Everyday Faithfulness in Seasons of Waiting

The year was 1943. My grandparents were married only a few months when my grandfather joined the Army to fight in WWII.

Over the course of that year, my grandfather would travel to bases in VA and GA to complete his training before heading overseas to Europe where he would eventually receive orders to head to the beaches of Normandy in June of the following year. A technical problem would delay him by a day or two, protecting his life and ultimately, that of my own. For my grandmother, the year of 1943 was a year of waiting. Waiting for letters from my grandfather, waiting to hear where he was and what he was doing, and like the rest of the nation, waiting for the war to end.

I know all this because when I visited my parents this summer, my dad gave me my grandmother’s diary from 1943. It’s small and fits in the palm of my hand. Rather than a journal used to document one’s thoughts and feelings, this diary was used to jot down the events of the day. My grandmother did just that, writing down what she did each day the year of 1943. And what stood out to me the most is the mundane nature of life, even in the midst of war, even while waiting for news from my grandfather. Mundane things like: cooking, cleaning, and ironing, walking down to the country store for groceries (they didn’t own a car and even after they did, my grandmother never learned to drive), going to the beauty parlor, visiting with family and friends, worshipping at church, and signing up new Army recruits at the local schoolhouse.

And writing letters each day to my grandfather—many of which we still have.

As I read through the diary, through the lists of tasks and activities accomplished each day, it reminded me how much of life is filled with mundane duties and tasks. Everyday things. Errands and chores. Necessary duties of life.

Even while waiting. Even in the midst of crisis.

I tend to freeze in the face of uncertainty. I tend to push pause until I know what the future holds. I tend to zero in on the crisis and forget everything else. But life is made up of daily acts of faithfulness. Of doing what needs to be done. Of living out our callings each day. We don’t know what the future holds. We are called to glorify God this day. We are called to live for him and his glory in all that we do, even in the daily, everyday activities of life (1 Cor. 10:31, Col. 3:17).

In the spring of 1943, my grandmother wrote that she planted a garden in the yard. Growing up, my grandparents always had a garden. To this day, the best watermelon I’ve tasted came from their backyard. The act of planting a garden is one of sowing seeds of hope. The gardener does not know what will come of those seeds. She does not even know if she will be there come the harvest. She plants them anyway and each day tends to that garden. Whatever the weather or circumstances, she waters and pulls weeds and checks for harmful insects. In our own lives, we too need to till the soil of life, plant seeds, water them, and wait for God to produce the fruit. Whether we are looking for a job, laboring for restoration in a relationship, or praying for a crisis to come to an end, we need to do the daily work of life—all to the glorify God.

My grandmother’s little journal from 1943 challenged me in 2020 to remember that whatever I am waiting for, whatever the unknown future holds, whatever crisis surrounds me, I need to continue forward, doing the next thing, for the glory of God.

The Sound of God's Silence

Do you know the sound of silence?

Once upon a time, I played the flute in the school orchestra. I especially enjoyed playing those musical pieces where a portion of the score built up to a crescendo, followed by a moment of silence where all the instruments paused at once. It only lasted a beat or two and then the strings would quietly start again. It was a powerful moment. That silence wasn’t a random absence of sound; it was placed there by the composer as a key part of the music. It was essential to the movement and feel of the piece. The lack of sound was almost a sound in itself.

Sometimes, we hear the sound of silence in our spiritual life. Perhaps we’ve prayed and prayed and still no answer comes. Maybe we’ve been in a long season of waiting and the silence grows increasingly loud as the days wear on. Or maybe we find ourselves in a spiritual wilderness where the fog of doubt and uncertainty is thick. We feel all alone. Abandoned. Forgotten. And the silence makes us think God has turned and simply walked away. We start to think he’s given up on us and begin to wonder if we should too.

Yet, I wonder if we might have the wrong assumption about God’s silence. Perhaps, God’s silence isn’t silence at all. Perhaps what seems like silence is actually an important pause in the score of our life. Because it’s often in the quiet where the real work takes place. We see this truth lived out in the stillness of winter. When there’s no rustling leaves on the trees or acorns dropping to the ground or squirrels scurrying in the brush, life continues on in the quiet of the earth underground. We also know that in the darkness of the womb, a child is knit together. Even before her mother feels the first stirring of life, her heart beats strong. And in the quiet of each night, while all the world sleeps, our bodies and minds continue their labors, drawing breath and circulating blood and firing synapses.

God too is at work, even in the silence. God is at work especially in the silence.

Often, the silence is the work.

I’ve been thinking about this over these many months of our present crisis. Individually and corporately, we’ve faced loss and heartache and uncertainty. We’ve cried out in prayer for God to step in fix the brokenness. Many of us wait for his response. In that waiting, all we hear is the sound of God’s silence.

I can’t help but think of the prophet’s words in Lamentations 3, “The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD” (vv. 25-26). It is good to wait for God. God is good to us who wait. There is good in quietly waiting on the Lord.

There is good in the silence.

Silence forces us to hear things we can’t hear in the usual cacophony of life. It makes us sit alone and notice those things we often avoid or drown out with busyness and other distractions. Our thoughts, feelings, desires, and motivations become our only companions. The silence gives us an opportunity to take an honest look at ourselves. To see what we truly love and trust and hope in. To perhaps realize how fickle our hearts are and how far we’ve wandered from God. To see lies we’ve long believed and lived by. And ultimately, to grasp just how much we need God’s grace poured out in our lives. That we need him and can’t live without him. That he alone is our life.

Then, like the flash of light in the darkest night, God breaks the silence. The Spirit prompts our hearts and reminds us of what is true. And we realize God has been there all along. The fog lifts and we see the trail of his grace that both led us into the silence and remained there beside us.

We all have seasons of waiting in the Christian life. In those seasons, God may be silent. The prophet encourages: “Let him sit alone in silence when it is laid on him; let him put his mouth in the dust—there may yet be hope…For the Lord will not cast off forever, but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love” (Lam. 3:28-29,30-31). The sound of God’s silence will not last forever. It is but a pause used for his good purposes in our lives. When all is quiet, we must remember and rest in his steadfast love. We must wait with expectation, knowing his timing is perfect. He will execute the next note in perfect time with his will and plan.

One day, all the silences of life will find their place in the score of our lives and we’ll hear it played out in its completion. We’ll hear the most beautiful composition ever played, the song God wrote before time began, the song of redemption.

A Prayer While Waiting

I often find myself in a place of waiting. I wait for the Lord to answer prayers for which I’ve long prayed. I wait for him to move in my life and in the life of others. I wait for wisdom to know what to do in particular circumstances. I wait for fruit to grow in ministries and relationships. I wait for dreams and hopes to finally come to fruition.

It’s easy to grow weary in waiting. I am often impatient. Sometimes my heart fills with worry and doubt. I may even begin to wonder if God has forgotten about me. That’s why the Psalms are an important book for those of us who wait. It shows us how to wait well. It shows us to turn to the Lord with all that is on our heart and cry out to him. In Psalm 13:1, he wrote, "How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?”

For all of us who wait, let us turn to the Lord in prayer.

A Prayer While Waiting

Father in Heaven,

I come before you with my heart filled with so many different thoughts and feelings. I am tense and uncertain about what I should be doing and where I should go. I feel weak and helpless. Powerless. I am worried about what happens next and whether I have the strength to handle it. Deep down I wonder, how long will I be here? Will I be stuck in this place of waiting forever? And why am I here to begin with? What's happening, Lord? But most of all, I wonder, where are you? Why haven't you responded to my cries for help?

But even as I pray that, I know you are right where you've always said you would be. You've never left me and you will never forsake me. You hear all my cries. In fact as David wrote in Psalm 139, you know my thoughts before I even think them. You know exactly what is happening in my life and what will happen next. All things are in your control and nothing can happen apart from your will. Not a sparrow falls to earth without your willing it to and you know the number of hairs on my head. You are never surprised. Even about this issue in my life today. You know why this is happening and will use it for your glory and my good.

Forgive me for how I have worried about this situation. Forgive me for doubting your love and care in my life. Forgive me for my discontentment as I wait for what happens next. Forgive me for being impatient. Forgive me for not seeking after you and for allowing these circumstances in my life to seem greater than your grace and goodness. Create in me a clean heart. Help me to see the counterfeit loves and idols in my heart. Help me to see all the things I cling to that I think will make my life happy and complete apart from you. Help me to repent and turn back to you, my one true love. 

As the prophet wrote in Lamentations, "It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord" (3:26). Help me to remember that it is good to wait for you. In this place of waiting, help me to remember all that you have done for me through Jesus Christ. Help me to remember that your grace is sufficient to not only save me from sin, but to sustain me each and every day. Your grace is at work in me right now, transforming me and making me more like your Son. Nothing can separate me from you. I am safe in your love. 

Help me to know more of the joy that comes from knowing you. Grant me joy in Jesus, joy in being your child, and joy in knowing that you are always with me. May I find hope in your word for as the psalmist wrote, "I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope" (Psalm 130:5).

May I live for you even while I wait. Help me to obey and remain faithful, no matter how long I am in this place of waiting. 

In Jesus' name I pray, amen.

3 Things to Do in Your Waiting

I spend much of my life waiting for something: for the light to change, for a response to my text or email, for the nurse to call my name. I wait for hard things, like answers to blood tests and for good things, like a vacation to start. I wait for dreams to come true and for answered prayers. 

In many ways, the Christian life is one of waiting. We live in the in-between, a time between Christ's ascension and his promised return. We wait for Christ to come and make all things new. We wait for his glory to be revealed and his promises fulfilled. We wait for eternity where we will live forever worshiping our Savior.

Waiting is hard because we are impatient by nature. We want to speed things up and make things happen. We want things to take place on our time table. We look at waiting as wasted time—time we could be using for other things. We can't see waiting as productive and important in and of itself.  We treat it like a no-man's land, a purgatory of sorts between where we've been and where we want to go. 

Yet the Bible encourages waiting and sees it as a good thing, particularly a specific kind of waiting: waiting on the Lord. "The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD" (Lamentations 3:25-26). "From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him" (Isaiah 64:4).

Waiting doesn't mean not doing anything. It doesn't necessarily entail idleness or sitting still. In the Bible, waiting is a posture of the heart. It's a humble reliance upon the One who rules all things and holds all things together. It's living out the knowledge that God is good and faithful and will always be so. Biblical waiting requires hope and trust in our steadfast God.

In the passage above from Lamentations, waiting is described as "the soul who seeks him." This means there is work to be done in our waiting, important work.

What can we do in our waiting?

Wait in Prayer: As we wait on the Lord to move in our lives and in those around us, we seek him in prayer. Whatever we are waiting for—healing, restoration, provision, rescue—we cry out to the Lord in prayer. The Psalms of Lament are prayers of waiting for God to come to the rescue, whether for an individual or for God's people as a whole. These prayers are one's we can model and pray ourselves. And we don't just pray once, we pray repeatedly, telling the Lord our troubles, seeking his help, and responding to him with trust and praise. 

Watch with Hope: We also watch for God to move. We wait with expectation. While God may not answer our prayers in the exact way we request, we know he is faithful. We know he loves us in Christ and he will do all for his glory and our good. So we wait with anticipatory hope. We look for his glory in our life. We look for his providential hand at work in all things. We trace his grace in all the details of our days, from the littlest things to the biggest. Like a child on Christmas Eve who can't fall asleep, excited for Christmas morning, we wait for our Father with hope.  

Wonder with Joy: As we pray and watch for God's work, we wonder and marvel at his grace. We are his children, chosen in Christ before the creation of world. Through the blood of the Son, we are made holy, set apart for good works. We have a Father who cares about all the details of our lives, down to the number of hairs on our head. He knows what we need before we ask it. We have the down payment of our inheritance through the Spirit living within us, who comforts, guides, teaches, and exhorts us in righteousness. For all this and more, we wait in joy, because we know the One for whom we wait. 

Waiting is hard. But good things happen in our hearts when we wait on the Lord. As we draw near to him in prayer, seeking him as our refuge, and watching for him to move, we can't help but wonder at his generous grace for us. As you wait on the Lord today, know that your waiting is not wasted time. It's not in vain. For you wait on the God who rules the universe and the One who has proven his faithfulness to you in Christ. So pray. Watch. And wonder. 

Waiting on the Lord

"We are going to need to biopsy this because it could be cancerous."

Had I not been sitting down, these words from my doctor would have pushed me right over. Unexpected health problems always seem to knock the breath out of us, don't they? They take us by surprise. It's like the ground beneath our feet starts shaking. We look for something—anything—to grab onto to steady us. 

At least that's how I felt.

My doctor found a growth in my thyroid and sent me for a biopsy. (A needle in the neck—what could be more fun?). And then I had to wait for the results. For almost two weeks. Two weeks of thoughts swirling around my mind like a whirlpool; a vortex of frightening scenarios sucking me under. All those what if's? and I can't's! stringing and twisting together to form a rope which then encircled my heart, drawing tighter and tighter. 

I think waiting is one of the most emotionally tortuous things we go through in life. But when you think about it, we are almost always in a state of waiting.

Waiting for the check to come in so we can pay the bill.

Waiting for a child to mature out of a difficult stage.

Waiting for love to blossom again—or for the first time.

Waiting for a job to open up.

Waiting to conquer a sin that besieges us day after day. 

Waiting for the sun to rise upon our darkened circumstances.

Waiting for change. Any change.

Waiting for a relationship to be restored.

Waiting for what's broken to be mended.

Waiting for health and healing.

Waiting for Christ's return.

Not to mention all the little things we wait for: the traffic light to change, our turn at the cash register, for the elevator doors to open, an email or text returned, dinner to be served. Waiting is something we do almost every moment of our life. With that waiting comes a variety of emotions: impatience, fear, uncertainty, worry, anticipation, despair, dread, and anxiety. I think most of us would admit that we hate to wait. And the more important something is, the harder it is to wait. 

In the Bible, waiting is looked at as something positive. As something good:

"The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD" (Lamentations 3:25-26).

"Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!" (Psalm 27:14).

"It will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the LORD; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.” (Isaiah 25:9).

"I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope" (Psalm 130:5).

It's not necessarily the waiting itself that is good, rather what's good is the One for whom we are waiting. When we wait, we wait for the Lord. Our Lord is faithful, good, sovereign, and true. All that He does for us is good and right (Romans 8:28-29). He keeps His word and all His promises come to pass (Isaiah 55:11). This is most evident in the person and work of Jesus Christ. He fulfilled all God's promises, lived the perfect life we could not live, and died the death we deserved. The incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of our Savior shows us that God is a covenant keeping, faithful, true, and trustworthy God. He is why waiting is good—because He will show up. He will act. He will save. And all that He does will be good, exactly what's needed, and for His glory. Therefore, we can take courage and have hope. We can find our strength and joy in Him—even while we wait.

The waiting is good also because of what happens in our heart while we wait. As we rest in who God is, remembering His word and His works, our faith is renewed. We see our dependence and need for Him in new ways. We realize our own insufficiencies, sins, and weaknesses and see the ways we've tried to live apart from Him. In our waiting, we come face to face with the gods we've erected and worshipped instead of the true and living God. We see the ways we seek life, hope, and meaning apart from Him. Waiting then becomes an opportunity to grow in grace, to be transformed into the likeness of Christ. It becomes our season of winter before the blossoming of spring.

Dear sisters, we are all waiting. Both in little things and in life-altering things. Both in the temporary and in the eternal. Let us not waste a moment of that time. Instead, let us be strengthened by the Word, focused in prayer, abiding in hope, and an encouragement to one another. For all our waiting will end on the day when our Savior returns to make all things new. 

As for my own waiting, well, the biopsy was inconclusive. It looks like I'll need surgery. So my waiting continues. As I wait, I hope and rest in the One who is my salvation. "For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him" (Psalm 62:5).

If you are in a place of waiting, you might also want to read this prayer I wrote: A Prayer for When You are Waiting on the Lord.