Waiting, Part II

I hate waiting.  It’s stressful and painful and trying and just plain not fun.

But when I look back on my relatively-short life, I realize that some of the biggest blessings have come after long periods of waiting. 

My only sister – eight years.

My youngest brother – 9 months.

Being married – 13 months, 9 of which I spent away from my then-fiancee.

Answer to the question of where we’d live . . . would it be South Asia, California, Indiana, Virgina, or Minnesota – a very long summer.

My husband is an example of how to wait patiently.  He’d tell you that he’s not patient, but he really is.  When I fret and worry and complain, he reminds me to trust and be still.  He shows me what it means to surrender and be content.  I’m so thankful for his leadership.

On Monday he was offered a job at a law firm here in town.  They want him to work through this school year, next summer, and then join the firm full-time once he takes the bar.  We’re so thankful.  He starts tomorrow.

I laugh at myself, how I forget to see the bigger picture when I’m wrapped up in the small details of my small life.  None of these times of waiting  are ever a surprise to God.  He uses this waiting to test, to strengthen, to remind me to rely on Him.

Even though it’s hard, I’m thankful.  Either I can grow bitter and tired and fed up, or I can chose to trust.  My prayer is that I’ll choose the latter.