In Spanish class they teach a verb tense that in English is the "-ing." Its the continued state of doing something. You know: from "I ran" or " I will run" to I'm running.
I could say in short: for a long, long time our life has been one big "ing."
About a year ago we got word of a move. A year ago we told our near and dears the plans for our future and got ready. Then we waited. Still waiting.
We found out in March we were expecting. We'd have a baby this February. We began to anticipate in waiting. We got the sad news. We had hope. We got more sad news. We wait. waiting.
Even this holiday season we celebrate the end of a long waiting. The story of the woman that swelled with child. Soon he'd be born and he'd be the whole savior of this whole sin-ridden place. Waiting. Thousands of years of waiting. Now we're waiting for Him to come back-Which by the way HOW AWESOME WILL THAT BE?! Still, you guessed it. Waiting.
I'm waiting as I see friends struggle through pain, praying for redemption, deliverance, rest. To welcome babies of their own and to find out results of tests. Waiting to meet newborns and get jobs, or just for dreams to launch, or wisdom revealed or wounds to heal. We're waiting to see if God answers prayers with 'yes' or 'no' or what ever he may.
I'm not the expert, but boy do I feel versed in the subject. Yet, its in this giant pause of life that I'm realizing that this very pause is my life. This is it. I will forever be waiting until I take my last breath and finally wait no more. Then the cure is complete. I'm home.
It sounds a little weird, but this season has been one of the best so far. Yes, its been touched by grief, uncertainty weaves through what comes tomorrow, and the reality of unmet expectations has greeted me daily. I sit in the sun to try and absorb some good feelings for the few hours that it lasts so as to not be all weepy by the time Ben gets home, and yet, in light of all of this- its still a good season. I'm tasting what happens when the things I really, really, really didn't want are what is given and I'm realizing that while sin sucks and man-do-I-ache, God is really. Really. REALLY enough.
He's never waiting. He knows exactly what happens next. In His perception of time (as I imagine), my life is a dot and He sees it in full. So this moment, this clicking of my keyboard and my groom breathing next to me is part of a fulfillment of a once-was-waiting (because this very thing I did once wait in ache for.) One more dot complete in my scope-but to him its all complete. Its all been made perfect.
What all this means to me is that the scattered dots I've collected of my life are forming a cohesive image. That image is of one who brings glory for Himself with a biproduct of joy-for my joy. He's working it out to be one incredible sight. The unmet expectations, the grief, the pure-suckage are holding hands with the baby born, the marriage saved, the sweet moments. Both are leading me to conclusions that all this is the 'abundant life' he keeps promising. How? Because there's joy to be found in both. Here's my great discovery that the whole bible screams about: If he can redeem the worst of it-which he does-doesn't that mean I can have hope regardless of what I face? Think of it! He can make the ugly turn beautiful. He can take the worst of it and make it bless my heart. I often am in disbelief. But I keep seeing it. He keeps doing exactly that.
I'm getting closer to understanding this snippit: "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation., whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. "
In this season of wait I've learned a few key things: 1) God really cares and is more active than anyone in this scene 2) This in between business is the whole point. and 3) I'm along for the ride and Praise-You-Jesus its a beautiful one.
When I'm forced to wait in the not-yet is when I notice Him. Its in the deep sighs of another month gone that I figure out a little bit more what it means to trust and obey when all seems to suggest I cut my loses and bank on a new healer. Its the perpetual day-in-day-out of monotony mom-hood where I get to practice the knowledge my head carries. I get to practice until my muscles are so well versed in forgiveness and release and trust and silly that I find I can breath again. Trust. Forgive. Reconcile. Turn-Over. Forgive. Trust. Reconcile. It's a constant tilling he's called me to and this constant tilling of this hard ground is causing something surprising. I'm finding big leafy joy growing up out of all this.
How can this be? I keep laughing at the perplexity of it. How a God takes everything not right and makes it good and beautiful. The God who makes death dead and who heals the worst of it. He's calling me to jump into the release of His "I got this" and I get to let Him prove he's up to the task. And whatya know folks, he's doin' it. He makes all things new.
So while I'm waiting and getting my hands dirty, we're living well. Day by day this in between gets less and less a state of ambivalence and I get less and less prone to clench up my fists at the lack of 'fulfilled promises.' Good things are abundant at the sprague home-as are leaky diapers and too much laundry (both non-physical and tangible)-but blessings are winning out.
A little proof of it: This funny business:.
I dont know if any of this makes sense. but it does to my heart. So thanks for reading. May you have added stories to add to the pile of Jesus-is-worth-banking-on.
And to end: A random picture of my child's perfectly round nose-a reminder of what it looks like when she's not sick. (And all the moms say amen-you know what I'm talking about.)