Invitation: to Sit, to Wait, to Trust, with a Treat along the Way

by Alecia Klauk
(Chapin, SC)

Emotionally, we hate the feeling of not knowing what comes next. We get uncomfortable with feeling lost or even unsure and want a strategy to deal with fear and anxiety.

We want to see the steps. We love the order and predictability of that. We love the feeling of control it generously offers to us. We enjoy the illusion of being on top of things.

Where's the hope in that place? What do we do with that? When we haven't got a clue. When timing seems way off. What can we do in those places?

We sit. We wait. We trust. God rarely reveals His plan to us in a step by step, corporate postulate in one, five, and ten year increments! He doesn't tell us because He knows that we are so feeble that we'd get freaked out and run away! And He wants every opportunity to build relationship, but I'll get to that in a minute. He asks us to sit. To wait. To trust.

I have to tell you that I am annoying myself with those words right now. I am entrenched in a season of coming to a place of acceptance that He is in charge and will rule my life with great grace, but He will leave me in the dark about the future chapters that I am most interested in knowing. He wants me to sit. To wait. To trust.

I wish I could tell you that my reaction to sitting and waiting and trusting conjures up images of me running through fields of daisies, my hair blowing in the breeze, as I gloriously and triumphantly wait on the Lord. Yeah. That's funny.

This week, it's been more like me in a heap in the floor, weeping, confused, even angry at times. I am so intensely curious, which is far too an innocuous word to describe my desperation to know the plan. I have been a mess. And all I keep hearing is Sit. Wait. Trust. This is gritty faith. But there's a quiet hope in the middle of it.

It goes back to remembering Who He is. To relationship. Doesn't it always? That's why it is so important to develop a real intimacy with Jesus, not just a Sunday check-in or a quick go-to guy when we're in need. We need to know Who He is so that when it gets ugly and dark, we know Who we are leaning on. Let me tell you what He said to my heart.

I kayak. I go out on the pond across from my house when I want to run away from the world. No one can even talk to me out there, so it is a haven for me. In the midst of one of the most intense times of questioning God on this very thing of begging to know what comes next, I got out in my kayak and began to plead with Him.

I felt like one my kids, coming up with any and every ploy, bribe, and manipulation to try to get what I wanted, namely to get Him to tell me in a systematic way what we were going to do next. I really thought He'd feel sorry for me and pony up the goods. I was rebuked instead.

As I shamelessly begged, I heard that still, small voice in my spirit quiet me, not quite an airplane disaster movie slap, but something on that continuum. It was a, "Hush, child. Listen to Me." What He said next was profound, sticking in my brain and my heart to provide great comfort and solace when I felt like I might certifiably go crazy. It was very simple.

"Do you really think I would ask you to do something extraordinary and NOT tell you? Do you really think I would require you to radically change your life and leave you to guess about it?" And here was the real zinger. "Child, do you know Me at all?"

Woa. I was speechless. Convicted. Sorry. Quiet. I even lifted my paddle and just coasted, trying to absorb what I so clearly heard. It was a push to my frantic wondering. And what He knew and I knew is that I DO know Him. Not near enough, but enough. Enough to be quiet.

The truth is that when He tells me, when He tells you, to sit, to wait, to trust, He is doing it for our best. He is doing it because it is somehow better for us to just faithfully keep walking than it is for us to have the full picture. He knows everything that we do not, and when we are asked to trust, we need to remember just how trustworthy He is!

We also need to remember that the point is not what we do for Him. The most important thing in my life is not "What am I going to do?" Instead, it is "Do I love Him enough? How can I love Him more?" It's all about relationship.

Let me give you a picture of this. I took my kids on an excursion yesterday. It was so fun. We had church by the river. My life lately has been insanely busy, far more than normal, and I wanted the intimacy of that time together. Brian was out of town, and so it was up to me for the day. I made a plan, but I decided to keep my 5 little wonders in the dark about what came next. Sound familiar?

At first, they were so curious, they could hardly stand it. They were so anxious to know what we were doing, but as the day progressed, they relaxed. They figured out that it was going to be good, so they rolled with me. They knew that they didn't have to know because I DID. What a great object lesson.

Oh, and the fun they had along the way helped each step. We went to the amphitheater and read from Acts some words of Paul's that would have been delivered in such a place. We imagined the resistance he encountered and felt grateful for so much of the New Testament that he gave us. Then, we went down to the water's edge and read Matthew's account of Jesus' baptism. It was powerful.

At this point, the frantic, "What are we doing next, Mommy?" was replaced by happy, peaceful children. As we went to the next spot, which I promised and they believed would be wonderful, they serenaded the park with worship. It was incredible to hear tiny voices singing in unison, "I know my God is real. Nothing can change how I feel." Strong declarations of faith. Holy.

There was opportunity to teach along the way. Part of their Daddy's job involves overseeing construction of bridges, and so we always have to talk about them. We stopped under one and I asked the kids what they thought the deck was made of. They guessed it to be wood, because it looked like wood. My oldest knew, though, that it had to be concrete. I had this beautiful teaching moment to explain that when the concrete is poured on top of the wood, it takes the form of whatever it lays on. We talked about how that happens to us when we lay our lives upon Jesus. We begin to look like He does. I think even the little one got it.

We continued on to THE spot, and for the next hour or so, I watched my children grow in their knowledge of the Lord and themselves right in front of me. It was like spiritual time lapse photography.

They each conquered some fear in climbing up and down the rocks in the river. They played with snails and turtles and enjoyed the feel of the current on their toes. We all climbed up on the biggest rock together and read from James that we need to be doers of the Word. They then taught me the signs they had learned for the Ten Commandments, and we knew that they are what we need to obey.

We worshiped together on top of that rock, and ended our time in prayer. Precious. "Thank You, God, for this river." "I love You, God, more than anything else." Little guy gave us a great amen with, "Bye, God!" It was divine.

What a great object lesson. I went in to the day wanting to give to them, but I think I came out richer. I see such truth because of their example. I am so thankful that my kids trust me, and that they decided to exercise that trust and roll with me.

I see how I often do not do that with the Lord. I demand and miss the singing. I pout and don't get to climb on the rock and find that I can do more than I thought I could. I miss the snails and the current and baby turtles. I miss everything.

My children taught me yesterday what it looks like to sit, to wait, to trust. They reminded me that I can even enjoy the journey of getting there, wherever that is, because I trust Who is leading me.

I need to hold on to that. I need to remember how rich the time was, teaching them, training them in the Word, worshiping together, bonding with each one, and yes, just having fun! I think that's what God wants with us. I know it is because He said,

"If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!" (Matt 7:11)

I think that teaching, training, worship, bonding, relationship building all qualify as "good things!"

Purpose in your heart to roll with Him. Even in the dark. That really is what faith is anyway, right? If we knew everything that was coming, we wouldn't need faith. We would merely be observers of fact and followers of what is logical. Sounds mechanical, doesn't it? Robotic. Unemotional. Void of relationship. That's not what God wants, and when we are honest, even in the face of fear and desperation, it's not what we want either.

In our temptation to demand, to pout to know, to become frantic and frenzied, let's sit and wait and trust.

And I know that I am going to be looking for the fun, too. The rest of the story yesterday included finding worms and squishing beetles in what will now be a famous line, my boy said, "It's better when their guts come out!", skipping to the musical drumbeat of their little content, connected hearts, driving through the city, getting right under the stadium from a never before enjoyed vantage point, laughing at an old park we used to frequent when it was just me and my first, and we ended the day at Krispy Kreme. Not bad.

Delightful really. I want those kind of days with the Lord, too. Joyful. Bonding. Fun. That's the offer, an invitation I intend to keep, even in the dark. I want to sit, to wait, to trust. He might even bring me a doughnut! Good gifts indeed ...