Homophones are words that sound the same but are spelled differently and have different meanings. Take ‘wait’ and ‘weight,’ for example. In one sense, however, it’s appropriate that they sound the same because having to wait when we’re in a hurry, or anxious, or impatient can feel like a great weight upon our shoulders.
There are many places and times when we must endure the weight of waiting: grocery store checkout lines; slow traffic lights – or driving behind slow drivers; needing to mail an important package at the post office. Or realizing why we’re called ‘patients’ at a doctor's office, having to exercise patience – another homophone, by the way.
I still recall the waiting I had to endure on Christmas Eve as a boy. My sleepless night seemed unending. I wondered if the clock was running in reverse. I couldn’t wait until morning – but I had no choice.
One of the problems with waiting is it makes us feel we’re not in control. Which, in many cases, is true. But we live in a “can-do” culture, and waiting seems more like “I can’t do.” We’re all about taking action, doing what needs to be done. Frank Sinatra used to sing, “I Did It My Way.” Motivational speakers declare, “If you can conceive it and believe it, you can achieve it.” They never say, “Wait for it….”
Our nation was founded and developed by explorers, innovators and entrepreneurs who claimed they had, “pulled themselves up by their own bootstraps.” (Have you ever tried that? It’s not easy to do!) Self-realization and self-reliance are the mantra for many successful people. Waiting, on the other hand, isn’t a prerequisite. It’s not even encouraged.
However, when it comes to this daily journey we call the Christian life, waiting’s very much a part of the process. In fact, there are times when it feels as if God has placed us in His “waiting room,” our number is 95, and He’s only on number 6.
Through the years, Psalm 37 has been one of my favorite Bible passages. It’s been especially meaningful when praying and seeking the Lord’s guidance about making a major career change. I’d read the psalm and find comfort, reassurance, and a timely reminder – that He’s in charge and I’m not.
I was all about the first part of the psalm, which fits the “can-do” spirit we know so well. The third verse admonishes us to “Trust in the Lord and do good.” I’d read that and think, ‘Yeah, I can do that!’ Then verse 4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord.” I’d think, ‘I can do that, too!’ That’s followed up by one more directive in verse 5: “Commit yourself to the Lord.” Without hesitation I’d think, ‘Yep, I can do that, too! Now, can we move on with Your answer, Lord?’
Trust. Do good. Delight. Commit. All strong action verbs. No problem, right? If that’s what God wants me to do, let’s go!
But then I’d come to Psalm 37:7, which seems like jamming on the brakes while speeding down the highway. It instructs us to, “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.” What?! I’m good with all the stuff I’m told to be doing, but why do I have to wait?
This admonition isn’t a mistake or misprint. In fact, it’s repeated twice in the same psalm, just in case we missed it the first time. Verse 9 assures us, “But those who wait for the Lord, they will inherit the land.” Then, verse 34 says: “Wait for the Lord and keep His way.”
To be clear, this doesn’t mean we’re to sit like a lump on the couch, passively waiting for something to happen. But it does mean recognizing that when we’ve done everything we know to do, we’ve run out of ideas and options, then it’s time to be patient, wait, and as we’re told in another of the psalms, “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
Waiting is rarely easy, but it gives us the opportunity to trust in what the Lord is doing and, many times, to marvel at the incredible ways He works. When we “let go and let God,” as they say, we can experience Him doing, “exceeding abundantly more than anything we could ask or imagine,” as Ephesians 3:20 asserts.
Once we’ve done our part, we can wait and release the weight to the Lord. Then we can see Him doing His part – often much more than we could have asked or even hoped for. He’s done this in my life more times than I could count – and with the benefit of hindsight, I’d not have it any other way.