I wait for the Lord, my soul does wait,
And in His word do I hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
More than the watchmen for the morning;
Indeed, more than the watchmen for the morning.
Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him;
Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way,
Because of the man who carries out evil schemes.
Lately I’ve been pondering waiting. That is, waiting as it is spoken of in the Psalms. When I think of waiting, I think of toe-tapping, impatient, hurry-up-already kind of waiting. I picture myself sitting in a chair, doing nothing, saying, “Okay God, I’m waiting for you!” In a not so nice tone of voice.
But I’m beginning to get the feeling that this isn’t the sort of waiting the Psalmist is speaking of. Rather, I think it is more of an attitude of the heart rather than the outward appearance of waiting. In the stillness of your heart, saying, “I will wait for you, God.” This kind of waiting means quietly telling the Lord in your heart that you are totally dependent on Him, and that you won’t go forward without Him. It means abiding– resting in Him, trusting that His ways are higher than yours, willing to accept all that comes your way with joy. It means delighting to dwell in His presence, and to be delighted, thrilled at the thought of getting to spend time with Him. It is a happy place. It is a declaration of abandoning all independence on self, and trusting Him to accomplish that what concerns you. It means waiting for Him to do His work of sanctification in you, and acknowledging that this work is something He and He alone must do. He asks, “Will you wait for me?”
This kind of waiting is something I am not good at. I guess that is why the request “Teach me Your ways, O Lord!” is echoed all throughout the Psalms. We humans don’t know God’s ways well at all, and we need help to understand and learn them, otherwise we wouldn’t need to be taught about them. I know so little about the ways of the Lord— all of this, all I have begun to understand, is but a drop in the ocean; a tiny glimmering that eludes to a brilliant light. But that which I do know, this small, sweet taste, has left me longing for more.