I haven’t published a note for a while but I’ve felt compelled to write up what God has put on my heart about waiting. So here goes…(!)

Over the last week I have been really struck (again) by Jesus’ command to the disciples to “wait” (Acts 1 v 4). They had seen him raised from the dead, then eaten and talked with him, and just witnessed the remarkable sight of him ascending into heaven. They knew what he had called them to – to ‘go into all over the world to tell people about Jesus and make disciples of people from all nations’ (Matthew 28 v 19) and yet they were being told to wait.  They must have been bursting with excitement, eager to set off following his calling on their lives.

New Christians often have that kind of excitement.  They tell everyone they encounter about Jesus.  I am sometimes reminded of how I led a friend to the Lord when I was a child – full of the eagerness to ensure my friend joined me in eternity in heaven, giving the gospel in black and white and bluntly warning where the alternative path would lead. I praise God that by his grace my friend was saved, despite me, and remain thankful that my friend still loves God today.

The shepherds had that kind of excitement after they’d met Jesus as a baby – two thousand years before 24/7 mass- and social media, they spread the news widely (Luke 2 v 17).  Many of the people Jesus healed were overflowing with enthusiasm – praising God and telling those they met what Jesus had done for them.

After finding out Jesus was alive, I think I’d have been pretty excited.  I’d probably have hung around Jerusalem with the other disciples, hoping I’d see him again, telling anyone who would listen the good news.  I imagine I’d stick pretty close to Peter hoping that would up my chances of being in the right place at the right time. 

But then he’d gone again.  This wasn’t like the time Jesus ‘went’ when he was crucified.  At that time I expect I’d have been pretty downhearted, questioning whether I’d got it wrong, wondering how something that seemed so hopeful could end so miserably.  But this time was different.  This time there would have been no doubt. Jesus had risen from the dead and now gone to sit at God’s right hand.  He had told me what I was to do.  I expect I would feel like a greyhound on the starting line, or a horse in a big race – chomping at the bit to get going.  And yet Jesus had said “wait.”

Imagine having heard really clearly from Jesus – I’m not just talking about receiving confirmation through the scriptures or prophetic word, laying out a fleece or even seeing neon lights in the sky, but having the real Jesus, standing in front of you telling you his plan for your life. This Jesus who you had witnessed being raised from the dead and seen ascending into heaven.  This Jesus who has been teaching you for the last few years, who you have been with as he healed the sick, cast out demons, confounded experts with his knowledge, spoken words of knowledge into people’s lives…  He has told you to go and tell people around the world about him.  Would you feel like waiting?

Sometimes we are fortunate enough to know what God’s plan is for our life, or at least for the next stage of it.  We have a degree of certainty around where we are to go, what we are to do, whether we should get involved in the children’s work, whether we should run the children’s work, if we are meant to lead, instruct, prophesy, become a missionary…

Often it’s just a glimpse of the way ahead, sometimes it’s a clear instruction that requires a major change. It can be scary but when we have that certainty that it’s what God wants, we are eager to get on with it.

At other times, many of us struggle to know what God’s plan or calling is for our lives. We might have a vague sense, but not enough clarity to run headlong into the unknown. 

I often feel I don’t know what part God wants me to play in his world. I find it frustrating.  Particularly when I know he can be incredibly clear and confirming. And especially when he reveals a bit of it, you step forward and then find the path ahead unclear again.

But I’m beginning to understand why he deals with me like this, revealing a part of the puzzle at a time.  I have a tendency to get very excited. I like to imagine and plan everything to the nth degree.  Not in an OCD organised way, but in an ‘I know where I’m going and what I have to do and have prepared every scenario in my mind’ way. God’s timing is perfect.  I have never doubted that.  But as soon as I am sure what God wants me to do, I push the door.  Sometimes it slams in my face.  Because I have added my own understanding to God’s calling and ‘got on with it.’  I have jumped ahead of the starting gun, false started the race and run the risk of running the race before all the markers have been set out to indicate the way.  At times I have questioned whether I had really heard from God given that the ‘logical’ outworking of his word to me hadn’t happened.  But each time I have been surprised by how he did outwork his word in his time, to far greater effect and in a way I hadn’t been able to predict.

If God told me to go and be a missionary in Africa, I might spend a significant amount of time over the next few days online trying to work out how to fulfil his word. I’d speak to people about it but I’d certainly try to work out what the next piece of the puzzle looked like.  I’d try to take control of my destiny whilst thinking I was following his command.

I don’t mean we should just do nothing.  But there is something in waiting – the right sort of waiting.  Jesus commanded the disciples to wait in Jerusalem.  They made good use of their time (deciding who would replace Judas as the 12th disciple) – but they waited.  Had they rushed off overseas to spread the news about Jesus without waiting, the rest of the New Testament would have looked very different.  They were told to wait.  They waited.  The Holy Spirit came. In power.

On Sunday, a lady at church described a dream she’d had of ‘floating.’  It struck me that was a really good way to illustrate what God was saying to me.  To float you have to let go.  You have to trust.  You have to make the time to stop.  Taking your feet off the ground signals your intention – to either swim or float. Floating requires you to put your head back and trust that the water will not drown you.  You cannot kick your legs or flail your arms around – otherwise you’ll be swimming, treading water or drowning, but not floating.

I’m getting better at taking my feet off the ground – making the first move into whatever God has told me about, however scary it seems.  But God has been telling me to float – not race off swimming the fastest front crawl I can muster – to wait, on him and for him.  Because just like the disciples waiting for the Holy Spirit, waiting on God will better prepare and equip me for what lies ahead.  If I get frustrated then I’m not truly trusting and floating but flailing around which won’t get me anything other than a mouthful of water, and won’t give me the rest I might need for the swim to come.

So right now I’m waiting.  I’m chilled out, laid back on the sea, sunglasses on, cocktail in hand, basking in God’s glory.  There’s a lot that could be stressing me out, I’ve been itching to get on with, threatening to resolve my way, prayers I’ve yet to see answered, a road ahead I can’t quite see, but God’s told me to wait. So I’m waiting.  God doesn’t disappoint.

First written 11th June 2014