“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:11).
Waking up to that first crisp fall morning is intoxicating. A hint of autumn perfumes the air, and nature seems to be in all her glory. The relentless stickiness of summer has finally given way to something so serene. But more often than not, that first crisp morning is a tease. It swiftly disappears, and the trance is broken. An itch of longing creeps in — when will those idyllic days stay?
We eagerly await the next crisp morning. I know I am not the only one who notices how quickly the stores clear out the shelves of “beachy vibes,” replacing them with orange hues and pumpkins galore.
So much of life mirrors this attitude as well
We are constantly grasping, trying to get to the next thing or the next promise. We throw out what we had last spent ages aching for and are so ready for the next thing. The more I reflect on it, the more it makes sense. Somewhere along the way, we started to view life through the lens of use. We want what is most efficient and effective.
Everything is readily available to us. We receive the news in ten-second video snippets before we’ve barely had time to down a morning cup of coffee. God forbid anything is a bore, since we have been trained that forward momentum is everything. If it no longer works, throw it out. If it’s boring, scroll on by. Here is our fatal flaw: We’ve lost the art of being faithful in the boring.
It hit me so hard when not too long ago someone asked me the simple question of how I was doing. The colossal wave of it all came crashing down. “I am a total bore at present, thank you very much,” I thought to myself. I managed a polite response, but it really crystallized when I thought, “if I tried to articulate what’s going on right now, we’d all be stifling a yawn. Ew.”
It’s similar to being stuck in a waiting room. You know you’re going to be called (hopefully) soon, but for now, you’re just waiting. There is nothing to report, and you’re not really able to concentrate on anything. Maybe you try a book, maybe you scroll or people-watch, but the overwhelming sense of waiting consumes you.
God’s Waiting Room is No Different
For many of us, we might be in God’s waiting room — and what a frustrating place to be. It’s easy to brew a pumpkin spice latte on a late summer day and pretend it’s autumn, or pull up the Christmas playlist in October, but in reality — in our everyday challenges — there’s no cheat menu, no pretending. We have to wait.
Waiting punctuates every aspect of our lives: be it personal or work, spiritual or physical. There’s always the spell of waiting. Sometimes, I think we’re so consumed with avoiding it that we just opt for busy instead. It’s better to feel busy than stuck. We fill up our time and chase the next thing. Those moments of “stuck” really test us — they test our fortitude, our commitment, and our interior peace.
Do we trust God in the quiet of the waiting room? Or are we seeking an escape, or a means to take back what feels like control?
Whatever may be keeping us in the state of “stuck,” it’s crucial to remember that God isn’t interested in the imaginary version of you that you are chasing (the one you think will be so much better off once she has the new job, house, pregnancy, whatever it is). He is with you in the present, and that’s the woman he loves and calls out to. God is not a bit bored and is every bit concerned with the woman He created. Hubert van Zeller once said, “Imaginary sanctity is not sanctity.” God calls to you now. Regardless of what you feel or what the world may think, He knows this waiting is not for nothing. Turn to Him and be steadfast in the boring.
Ann Burns is the founder of The Feminine Project, an organization dedicated to restoring the joy of womanhood. She is a writer and speaker, and strives to uphold what is truly good and beautiful. Most of all, she is a wife and mother, and loves to share the joy in living each day well.