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When God Says “Wait”

Rev. Doug Pratt — August 22, 2010
 

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Introduction
The visual images from the earthquake in Haiti last January grabbed the attention of the world by the throat. As video images and on-scene satellite reports from Port-au-Prince and its surroundings began to arrive, we were stunned by the power of the earthquake, though the seismologists informed us that it was by no means the most powerful jolt the earth’s crust has ever had. We were even more stunned by the massive devastation—compounded by the high population density of the city and by the lax or non-existent building codes that had been in place beforehand. And most shocking to us in the U.S., who have been through our share of natural disasters in the past, was the nearly complete lack of basic services available to help people. The Haitian government was revealed as utterly failing in the most basic and fundamental purpose of any civil government, to provide for the safety and welfare of its people. In comparison, though our government is certainly not perfect, the response by Americans when a hurricane or tornado or earthquake or flood strikes is relatively rapid and competent.

As in every tragedy, we see not only the worst of human nature but also its best; we hear not only stories that break our hearts but also ones that lift and inspire them. The immediate response of giving and tangible help and volunteer assistance, especially from the U.S., was amazing. The newscasts and websites and newspapers were full of these stories. One of the most memorable was of a volunteer team of U.S. firefighters who dug through the rubble of a collapsed basement and lifted a little boy out to safety. And as he emerged to the cheers of the crowd around, the boy raised his arms over his head in joy and triumph. What an unforgettable image!

Another story I remember from those desperate days after the quake was about a man who had been trapped in an air pocket between floors of a collapsed building. After his rescue he told journalists what it was like for several days as he waited for deliverance. As he heard the workers digging, he would periodically call out to them as loud as he could, “I’m still here”—to reassure them that their digging was not in vain. And the muffled voices would come back, “We’re still here, too; we’re coming for you; don’t give up!” Those words of certainty kept him hanging on, gave him courage and faith, and prevented him from descending into despair while he was trapped in that tight and dark spot.

Scripture
Remember that image of the man trapped in rubble as we read our Scripture text for today, Psalm 130. These are the words of another man who was in a tight spot and was waiting to be rescued.

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord;
      ²O Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.
³If you, O Lord, kept a record of sins,
      O Lord, who could stand?
⁴But with you there is forgiveness;
      therefore you are feared.
⁵I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
      and in His word I put my hope.
⁶My soul waits for the Lord,
      more than watchmen wait for the morning,
      more than watchmen wait for the morning.
⁷O Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
      for with the Lord is unfailing love
      and with Him is full redemption.
⁸He Himself will redeem Israel
      from all their sins.

The hinge point of this Psalm or poem, the fulcrum on which it turns emotionally, is found in verses 5 and 6. “Wait for the Lord,” we are told. That’s what we need to learn to do. So, how do we handle those times in life when God says, “Wait”?

A Common Experience
Actually we ought to be pretty competent at this, because we frequently find ourselves in waiting periods. They come to us at all stages of life: young and old and in-between, married and single, working and retired. Life is filled with waiting periods. In fact, they may actually be the norm, rather than the exception. People all around us today are waiting—with varying degrees of patience, hope, confidence and the unshakable faith Psalm 130 talks about. Do you know someone who is waiting …

• For a house to sell in a slow and sclerotic market where there seem to be far more sellers than buyers?
• For a child to be born, or a grandchild, with all the hopes and worries the planned arrival of that new life will bring?
• For graduation to be achieved, after a long course of study and hard work?
• For the body to heal from surgery or after a regimen of chemotherapy?
• For a tour of duty in Iraq or Afghanistan to end with the soldier unharmed and returned home?
• For an oil leak to be plugged, as America did for three long months?
• For a person you love to complete their final struggle and go to be with the Lord? (Many of us have found that death is a great blessing and release from suffering.)
• To be financially able to retire, even with a volatile stock market?
• To find the right life partner?
• For a construction or renovation project to end and a home to be put back to “normal”? (Our church staff was talking about this recently, as we had to live with the disruption of construction in various stages around our facility for nearly two years.)

Though we all get lots of practice in learning how to wait, it’s not something that our society embraces or celebrates. In fact, we may be the most impatient generation in history, spoiled by modern technologies that have sped things up unimaginably, and have made us increasingly impatient. We stand watching, counting down the seconds, as our cold pizza or tea water heats up in the microwave. We get impatient at traffic lights that are slow to change. The other day at the local Publix I held a bottle of orange juice, a coffee creamer and a loaf of bread as I stood in line for seven minutes to check out (the problem was that somebody had entered the Express Lane ahead of me with more than 10 items—and believe me, I counted). We don’t tend to do waiting well.

A Different Approach
But a pretty good portion of your life and mine is going to be spent waiting. We can resent it, and gripe about it; we can think it’s unfair, and we can let it eat us up inside. Or we can read and learn from Psalm 130 and the other portions of Scripture that offer to us a different approach. We can make peace with the waiting process and turn to God daily for His help, His wisdom and His strength to deal with it in the right way.

All of human life is actually an in-between time. We live inside fallible and mortal bodies that are obviously just temporary, designed to wear out over time. We live on a planet filled with things that likewise do not last. We are reminded constantly of how transient everything is that we can see.

Those who are not believers dread this reality and run from it. They live in unspoken terror of what they think is a nothingness beyond. But those who believe what the Bible says have a totally different understanding. This short life is not meaningless but has ultimate and eternal meaning, precisely because it is the starting point for a life with our Lord forever. Rather than this lifetime being the dingy waiting room of a concentration camp before our inevitable extermination, through faith we see it as the waiting room of a glorious palace as we look forward to our coronation.

Which of these two viewpoints will you choose? Will you face the waiting period of human life with hope rather than despair? If so, then let’s give closer attention to the biblical teaching on how to wait effectively. There are three simple principles we need to know about what we can call “biblical waiting” or “waiting for the Lord.”

Waiting for the Lord is not Worry but Trust
It is always tempting to give in to fears about the future, since it is never entirely knowable by us. Some of us are more prone than others to drift into worry, but it’s an issue for all of us. Worry is dwelling on the worst case or possible outcomes in the future. And it can cause us to lose our perspective. Our fears swell up to the size of giant dinosaurs, and our confidence and faith shrink to grasshopper size. Worry whispers in our ears: “It’s all up to you. You’d better do something, and fast.”

But trust in God is very different. It reminds us that we are not alone. It helps us see the help and resources—both material and spiritual—at our disposal. While worry drains us and cripples us with the emotional and physical effects of stress, trust infuses us with new energy. It renews us. It allows us to live each day more effectively.

This does not, of course, mean that a Christian should not prepare for the future, plan carefully, and identify dangers and threats. All of those actions are the work we are to do today. But giving in to our fears about a future that may not even come—this is not God’s will for us. Prayer is a powerful antidote to worry. And it is what the writer of our Psalm does as soon as his difficulties begin. He says in verse 1: “Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.” In other words, he faces his problems with prayer.

Waiting for the Lord is not Passive but Active
A common misconception is that a time of waiting is purely passive, a waste of time. But that’s not what Psalm 130 portrays. Real faith is not passive resignation. It places what needs to be placed in God’s hands, and then it takes up the work that He has placed in our hands. Christian author Eugene Peterson puts it this way: “Waiting does not mean doing nothing. It is not fatalistic resignation. It means going about our assigned tasks confident that God will provide the meaning and the conclusions.”

Our biblical text gives an interesting word picture. It describes biblical waiting as being like the work of a night watchman, on guard against danger, senses alert and weapons at the ready, even as he longs for the end of his shift with the breaking of dawn. We might think that being a nighttime sentry is an easy job. Since it’s dark and no one is there at the office building or factory or army camp, who will notice if the soldier or security officer nods off for a few “winks”? But to do this job well, and to not fail when an intruder or emergency strikes unexpectedly in the middle of the night, a watchman must keep himself or herself alert constantly. That’s why they’re up and active, always watching and listening, shining their flashlights, scanning their security monitors, etc.

The greatest encouragement for a vigilant watchman is the certainty that the long hours of duty will eventually end, and the sun will rise. As their eyelids grow heavy, they snap themselves to attention by remembering that relief is on its way. In the same way, we Christian watchmen, who wait for the Lord, know that He will come to us at the right time. He will not abandon His people. In the moment we need Him most, He will be there.

Waiting for the Lord is based on the Promises of God
We are not trusting in some vague and undefined hope. We are anchored on the solid rock of the Word of God and its promises to us. That is how our Psalm ends: by reminding us of what God has assured us He will do. He will love us forever, unconditionally. He has redeemed us in Christ, and that redemption is ours forever—including total forgiveness of our sins and a guarantee of eternal life. This Book is filled with His promises. That’s why we read it, and why we remind ourselves repeatedly of those promises.

Moments of Hope
What kind of time is this in your life now? Are things going according to plan and clicking together in the way you had hoped? Or do you have some frustrations and unfulfilled wants? Is this for you one of those times of waiting? If God is saying “Wait,” I want to close with a word of encouragement. Ask God to bring you some moments of hope and encouragement during your waiting time. Hope is essential to sustain us. And God gives it to those who seek Him.

One of the heroes of the response to the Haiti earthquake was a Christian surgeon from Tampa named Sylvia Campbell. A veteran of more than two dozen previous medical mission trips, she arrived a couple days after the quake and jumped right in with the staff of a small hospital in Port-au-Prince. There they did emergency surgery for hours each day.

One particular day burns brightly in her memory. It was January 20, eight days after the quake. At the end of her surgical shift she had two hard procedures—each one emotionally gripping. One was a little girl whose foot needed to be amputated after the infection in it couldn’t be controlled. The little girl was distraught as the surgeon tried to comfort her. And then her last case of the day was a young Haitian engineering student whose right arm had been crushed, also requiring amputation (above the elbow). He was devastated that his engineering career would be over, though the doctor tried to reassure him that his good mind would allow him to find another career. Then she began the anesthesia and performed the amputation.

Physically exhausted and heartbroken for the two lives that had just been altered, she peeled off her sweaty scrubs, showered and crawled into her sleeping bag. Her spirits were as low as they had ever been. “Please, Lord,” she prayed before collapsing into sleep. “Send me some hope. Give me something positive to keep me going.”

A couple hours later she was awakened by loud cries. She rushed toward the hospital’s front door, and found a man banging on the doors, his wife lying on the concrete walkway. “She’s about to give birth. We have nowhere else to go. Please help us. Our first four babies all died during birth, and we can’t stand to lose this one.” Dr. Campbell rushed to the woman and quickly assessed her situation; the baby was, indeed, about to come. “We don’t have time to get you to the operating room. We’ll have to deliver the baby here.”

As the mother lay on a blanket on the concrete, with a large crowd of onlookers, the American surgeon helped the woman through the final steps of labor. She and her husband were terrified. “Please, Lord, let this new life come,” the doctor prayed silently. A healthy baby then came headfirst into her waiting arms. She did a quick exam: he looked fine. “Hi buddy! You’re beautiful!” she said to the newborn, and then handed him to his mother. His father stood up, looked at his wife and son, and shouted, “Praise God!” The crowd around erupted, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow!” The American doctor stepped away and breathed another silent prayer. “Thanks, Lord,” she said. “We needed that.”

We all need hope. And when the night of waiting seems darkest, ask for the Lord to send to you a ray of light.