On waiting

And paddling rafts.

It’s been a while, y’all.

With more or less regularity, I write here to process what we are going through, and to share our hearts with you. I talk about a walk we did not choose, a journey on which I never wanted to embark. Wayne, in his side-eyed irony, tells people we are on an adventure. Sometimes it feels less like a meandering stroll, or even a strenuous hike, and more like being swept up on the waves of an endlessly tossing ocean. We sometimes feel like we are looking out for land, bobbing along on our raft, uncertain of which direction to turn, or even of which horizon conceals our destination.

To take a journey requires taking steps, one small increment at a time. Or maybe, on an ocean-borne raft, it’s one paddle stroke at a time. But that is easier said than done. Without any landmarks, do we just sit tight and float along, waiting for what comes? I have faith that we will eventually arrive, wherever it is that we are headed, but I do wonder at times if I ought to be paddling.

I think mostly the answer is: no. I am held in the hands of the living God who loves me and loves Wayne, who knows our children more deeply than I can even imagine, and who sees beyond the hidden lands below the horizon. Lately I have been thinking a lot about faith, and remembering a time when waiting with faith produced beauty beyond bounds. I’d like to share that story now, and then, soon, hopefully share more about my thoughts on faith, and more updates on our current situation.

Once upon a time, Audrey loved Bible studies. Then life got busy and full of children, and, though she read the Bible aloud at breakfast, studied verses with a concordance in hand whenever she could catch spare moments, and memorized Scripture with her children, the days of women’s Bible studies faded into the blurry reaches of memory. But then, she began to grow hungry for this kind of study and fellowship again. She missed the conversations and debates, the prayers and communion of a group invested in the pursuit of God through His Word. She longed to start something. To do word studies and cross-references and push herself to get the assignments done so she could discuss them at length with others. She (I) was ready to dive in.

But.

My heart echoed with a single word from God: wait.

I am learning wisdom, learning patience (maybe….finally….a little), and so I waited, and I prayed. It took a while. I think maybe a year. Or two. But finally my heart’s echo began to sense a shift; the time had come.

Then there were new ways to learn patience. First, I asked God what we should study, knowing that words in season are so much richer, full of meaning. I don’t even remember how it happened, but I knew that the choice was Hebrews. But still, I also knew it was not quite time. I kept praying. (I have so many thoughts on Hebrews, mostly from this time, that I cannot wait to share. But I am holding back—waiting!—for the right time. Back to my story….)

Another hurdle was that I tend to invite everyone and their mother, aunts, and cousins to all of the events in my life. Winnie-the-Pooh calls this tendency of always showing up with a trail, friends-and-relations. (One day, ask me about the first time I shaved my legs.) However, I am (maybe….finally…a little) learning to be more thoughtful with invitations. Ladies came to mind, one by one, and the Lord nudged me to invite them. Each of them said yes. None of them knew each other; it was quite the hodge-podge. One lady attends my church. One is a member of my family. One was a very recent new friend who had moved from another country into our old home. But still, it was not time; I kept sensing that someone was missing. I kept thinking of people in my life, mentally plugging them into that empty spot, but none of them fit. I even went out on my own and invited two different dear friends, just because I love them so dearly, and wished they could be part, but deep down I knew they were not the right fit and was secretly relieved when they said no, knowing I had only asked out of my worry that I needed to find someone.

Then, on a memorable Latin Club trip with my daughter, it all unfolded. I met one of the other chaperones, and we became instant friends. Within a of couple hours, I was itching to invite her to the study, sure that she was the missing piece; but again, I’m learning wisdom. And patience (maybe….finally….a little). So I waited. And prayed. That night, this other mother mentioned that she was planning to study the book of Hebrews that summer. !!! Could this be more serendipitous? I almost launched in, right then and there, but (I’m learning, remember?) waited, and prayed. Over the course of the weekend, I became more and more certain I was supposed to invite her, but I still held back, trying not to jump the gun. Until. On the final morning, my new friend said, “If you ever do a study, would you invite me?” I was floored. I invited her on the spot, thankful to the Lord for being so obvious. And of course, she said yes.

So with this group of women, I went on a journey into the land of the Hebrews. We dug deep and lingered long over those words—this Word—with joy and intention. We laughed and loved, asked hard questions, shared our hearts, learned and grew and prayed and cried. Despite being relative strangers, these women were transparent and real with me and with each other. It was wonderful. The gathering of those women, and the knitting together of our hearts, was a miracle.

A miracle I think on as I toss about on my raft. I can wait. Because I know the Beauty that is over the horizon. I cannot see it, and I do not even know which way to turn my face or aim my paddle, but I know that it is there. The beauty. The Beauty that is the Love of God. I can wait.

Maybe. Finally. A little.