Don’t let me interrupt.
When there’s a lull in the conversation, I’ll speak up.
How often I patch the hole in my day, the opening in my calendar, even the moment between my bites with something to do. Something to keep my mind occupied. Something to entertain me. Or with just plain filler. While I’ve got a few minutes, let me clean out my inbox.
God doesn’t shout over what I’m doing, what I’m reading, what I’m watching, or what I’m listening to. God waits. Waits for me to finish. To take a breath. To leave a space. To rest from all that I am creating.
In our rat-a-tat world, this feels like wasted time, doesn’t it? I think I need more “wasting-time.” Unplugged, uncommitted, unfilled. The time I leave is never wasted when I open it to its possibilities.
I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere.
Don’t let me interrupt.
When there’s a lull in the conversation,
I’ll speak up.
J.K. Rowling first dreamed up Harry Potter in 1990, while on a train from Manchester to London. She finished the story in 2007 with the final book in the seven novel epic. Now, that’s a long story. Those who followed it all the way to its conclusion were held in suspense until the very last pages. We were all surprised by the ending — all of us, that is, except J.K. Rowling. She clearly had planned it all from the very beginning; she always knew how it would end.
This is the wonder of a great story and the gift of the great storyteller. They plot everything precisely and then make us wait for the surprise ending. While we wait, our anticipation grows, preparing us for the BIG finish! In the end, what we couldn’t possibly have imagined happening surprises us, and we’re completely gob-smacked by the satisfaction we feel. If we had skipped ahead to the conclusion, it would be empty. We’d have an ending, but no resolution.
It’s tempting in today’s world to want to fast forward things. Our technology and consumer conveniences make it possible to skip the lines, avoid the traffic, and tape the game so we can fast forward through the commercials. Stories aren’t meant to be experienced this way. They take their time, just like our lives do. That’s a good thing, right? Who wants to rush to the end?
But really, why not? If what God has promised is so much better than what we’ve got, why not fast-forward us to the good part? Perhaps because the God who is able to do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine (Eph 3:20), is still working on us.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. ~ Ephesians 3:20
God, the great storyteller, is telling His story by His power that is at work within us. For the satisfying resolution to make sense to us, we have to read all the way through to our last page.
We’re not meant to jump to the end of our lives without reading the middle parts. Something of God grows up in our lives as we learn to lead them. It will allow us, with all the Lord’s holy people, to stand before the love of Christ that is so much more than anyone could ever ask or imagine and find ourselves completely filled by it. (Eph 3: 14-20) Hard to believe, right?
Definitely. Yet, if Ms. Rowling had told me in Book 3 how Harry’s story would end, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have believed it either. It took four more books to develop the breadth of things which ushered me into the only ending that made sense.
So, even though from my vantage point on this side of my life story, the path to a happy ending may look narrow and perilous, to the God who conceived, wrote and is still writing it, it’s a broad expanse. It’ll take a lifetime’s filling of His Spirit for me to see and believe just how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ for me. Surprise!!
Perhaps this is what the late Steve Jobs saw on his deathbed as he uttered his last recorded words: “Oh Wow. Oh Wow. Oh Wow.” Can you imagine what would make an inventor, creator, and visionary like Jobs say that? Yeah, me neither. Guess we’ll just have to wait.
So, we wait.
We don’t rush to the finish. We don’t turn to the back of the book for the answers or the last chapter to see how it comes out. We don’t take the short cut through the peppermint forest if we roll doubles. We don’t jump to the front of the line. We wait.
What anguish there is in waiting.
- The physical discomfort of position, perhaps injury or illness or disease.
- The mental turmoil of wondering what will it take to be well?
- The emotionally wrenching, what if things don’t get better?
- The spiritual crisis, why did God allow this to happen?
Holy Saturday sits us here, perhaps personally, or perhaps at the bedside or at a distance but in intercession for another. We wait, and while we wait, we pray.
Jesus knew pain.
- The physical pain of crucifixion.
- The mental pain of derision and public humiliation.
- The emotional pain of grief and loss, sorrow and betrayal.
- Even the spiritual pain of forsakenness, rejection and loneliness.
Jesus waited a day, and while he waited, he healed. The suffering of physical pain was gone. The mental pain, he resolved “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” The spiritual pain was answered, “He sits at the right hand of God the Father.” But the emotional pain…does he still shed tears for his people? He must.
How does emotional pain find its healing?
Where do anguish, sorrow, and mourning go?
Time heals all wounds, we like to say, but that gives too much power and too much credit to time.
Waiting alone doesn’t heal.
While we wait, we pray.
Prayer takes the black and white of Good Friday and colors it in the pastels and bright hues of Easter.
The Father gives hope to those who pray.