I sit in your presence in the waiting room of life.
Snuggled into the body of the creator, I stare at the bright green walls. My mind wonders to what’s happening on stage. I long to know what is ahead for me, I ask Him to tell me, plead with Him to let me know. Instead He smiles down at me, smooths back the hair from my forehead and gently kisses where hair meets skin.
He pulls me in closer and we settle back into our positions. I pull away and begin to pace the room, looking for a clue among the things scattered around me. I see a map, a pen and paper, heartache and love, joy and loss, but no answer comes. Instead I stare at the door, longing to go out, knowing I could step out there, but I would have to leave His presence if I did.
I fire questions at Him, hoping that this time He will answer. I lay out my plan, the future I want and ask Him to bless it. I square off with the silent figure, sitting so peacefully, with every intention of demanding what I want out of this life.
I stop cold as I stare into the eyes of creation. I see the lines of compassion etched into his face and all I can do is collapse back into His arms.
He pulls me back into where I belong, grace floods over me and peace restores my sanity. I cling to the mountain of foundation and stare at the door, waiting for life to begin.
This is how I feel most days. My desperate need for rest has led me down a path where I am in a holding pattern, waiting for God to show me the next step. I have tried multiple options to get that door open, but nothing works. So now I sit here, some what apathetic and bored with life, wishing He would give me a clue as to what comes next. Instead He smiles at me, eases my fears, encourages me to rest and continues to restore my soul. So I choose to wait for Him to move.
“Hear instruction and be wise,
and do not neglect it.
Blessed is the one who listens to me,
watching daily at my gates,
waiting beside my doors.
For whoever finds me finds life
and obtains favor from the Lord,”