September marks the 24th month in my wife’s immigration story – she was my fiancée back then. For 24 months we’ve been waiting. Waiting for paperwork. Waiting for approvals. Waiting for appointments. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Meanwhile, for the last 15 months, she has borne the undesirable burden of commuting 12 hours a week (6 hours each way) just to visit me for long weekends.
Thankfully, our waiting should be over next month. Hypothetically, we will navigate the final procedural hurdles in October without issue… If we pass the 25th month mark, something will have gone terribly wrong!
Needless to say, I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t want this. What should have been a half-year process has become a two-year process. I’m not playing the victim when I say this, but this was the hand we were dealt and there was nothing we could do to change that.
What comes to mind when you think about waiting? We all experience waiting every day. Waiting on line at the grocery store. Waiting for your app to load. Waiting for your bus stop. Waiting for dinner to be made, or waiting for someone to do that something which they’ve neglected to do since last week.
In recent history, through technological advances and shifting cultural assumptions, we’ve bypassed a lot of waiting. One-hour delivery from Amazon was a pipedream in 1999 – not so much in 2019. Remember when you had to wait for Netflix to ship DVD’s to your home? Netflix is officially ending their DVD subscription service later this month. And if we haven’t been able to shorten wait times, we’ve filled them with other distractions, chiefly the smartphone. When was the last time you spoke with the person next to you in the doctor’s office?
All of this demonstrates our aversion to waiting. Who among us thinks fondly of waiting? If you’re like me, when you bump up against a wait time, your skin begins to crawl, your blood pressure rises, your foot begins to tap, agitation begins to set in. To wait – just like to stop, to slow down, or to do less – is scorned in our hurried culture. And the icing on top is that the very things designed to help us wait less are forming in us less capacity to wait. In other words, the very things that allow us to be impatient make us more impatient.
But you see, God doesn’t share our aversion. And as Scripture makes clear, waiting isn’t just a part of life, it’s part of our discipleship to Jesus.
Consider two illustrations from Jesus’ life and ministry. First, have you ever considered the fact that the Son of God waited thirty years to begin his public ministry (Luke 3:23)? The boy Jesus grew “in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man” (Luke 2:52). He endured all the woes of pubescent boyhood, while presumably learning his father’s trade. After two decades of apprenticeship to his father, then (likely) taking over his business, and providing finances and care to his mother, Jesus hung up his hammer and picked up a fishing rod, as it were, setting out on the divine mission for which he came into this world.
By contrast, we expect 18-year-olds to go out and conquer the world with a clear vision for the next 40 years. If you were the Messiah, the Savior of the world, would you have waited for 30 years to do what you ultimately came to do?
Second, at the conclusion of Jesus’ life on earth, as he readies his Apostles to fulfill the “Great Commission,” he instructs them to do something first. Luke records it for us in Acts 1, “And while staying with them he ordered them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father.” What was the Apostles first task when Jesus left earth? To wait. To stick around in Jerusalem for another 10 days until Pentecost.
Why wouldn’t Jesus release his Apostles in the power of the Spirit the very moment he ascended into heaven? Certainly, that’s what any of us would have done! “Get on with the mission! Get going! Don’t waste another minute! Go into all the world and preach the good news!” But not Jesus. He told them to wait.
One of the major tasks of the church in our day is to be a people who live slowly.
In his book, An Unhurried Life, Alan Fadling refers to suffering as “unexpected unhurrying”. I’d suggest that waiting is, similarly, a sort of forced unhurrying. Our consent is not required. The decision presented to us in waiting is to rebel against the process or submit to it. Yet our Father in Heaven welcomes us to humbly submit to his good purposes in our waiting.
Is it possible that in our attempt to bypass all manner of waiting, we miss what God is doing? Is it possible we miss the opportunity to be used by God because we’re set on doing things our way, at our pace? What if there’s something that God is trying to teach us in waiting? What if God is trying to shape his character in us through our waiting?
In all honesty, as much as my two-year immigration experience has displeased me, as I’ve reflected to my wife numerous times, perhaps that’s what it took for God to get the attention of two capable, independent, efficiency-valuing young adults. And not only that, but to humble us, to invite us to trust him, to educate us in his way of doing things.
What are you waiting for? A new job opportunity to come your way? A prodigal child to return to her childhood faith? A work-obsessed spouse to pay attention to what’s going on at home? A wild and energetic son to grow up and chill out? A paycheck in the mail? A medical diagnosis or a treatment plan to prove effective? Whatever you’re waiting for, I can tell you with full assurance that God has something for you in your waiting. That doesn’t mean it’s easy or enjoyable, but it is not meaningless.
I’m convinced that life in modern America is, quite frankly, at odds with God’s way. That’s probably not news to you. But I’m not referring to all the usual suspects of God-misalignment, issues involving identity, sexuality, abortion, or things like these.
What I mean is that we live in a culture that is by and large set on hurry and efficiency and against waiting and process. It is a culture set on self-expression and instant gratification, rather than self-restraint and patient endurance. Our imagination is shaped to love “quick” fixes, “fast-acting” relief, and “speedy” service. Accordingly, we are shaped to despise “slow” processes and the regrettable “long” view. We want results “now”, and this leads to much destruction. In the words of a friend, “Wickedness is often the result of wanting things fast.”
So, how can we faithfully follow Jesus in such a world? That’s a question I can’t fully answer here. But in short, I think one of the major tasks of the church in our day is to be a people who live slowly. (You read that right!) In living slowly, we can respect the limitations of our humanity. In living slowly, we can offer our neighbors the dignity they deserve as fellow image-bearers. In living slowly, we can truly love one another, for love is first of all, “patient” (1 Cor. 13:4). In living slowly, we, the church, can offer the watching world an alternative way of life, an alternative community – one which they won’t find anywhere else. One that is out of the proverbial fast lane, yet one that is in Jesus’ wake…the slipstream of human flourishing.
What does living slowly look like? To begin to answer that I’d refer you to John Mark Comer’s excellent book, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. In his chapter on “Slowing”, Comer offers a list of 20 practices that, in the words of John Ortberg, “[cultivate] patience by deliberately choosing to place ourselves in positions where we simply have to wait.” I promise you won’t like every suggestion. You will, no doubt, protest some of them. That’s fine, but at least they will get you thinking. Here is a sample:
Come to a full stop at stop signs.
Get in the longest checkout line at the grocery store.
Parent your phone; put it to bed before you and make it sleep in.
Set a time and a time limit for social media (or just get off it).
Single-task.
If you can, take long vacations.
Let me add one last practice to help you live slowly and learn God’s good purpose in waiting, making bread.
This is one I’ve taken up recently myself, and it truly has opened my eyes to my own impatience and hurry – and their consequences! You see, rookie bread-makers often make two crucial mistakes: too little kneading and not enough proofing. To make good bread, you must knead the dough thoroughly and you must allow it time to rest. To rush either of these stages of the process will result in a lack-luster loaf.
For me, making bread forces me to slow down, to pay attention to the ingredients and the textures of the dough, to wait for it to rise and cook and cool before I slice into it. In addition to my education via immigration, bread making is teaching me about the good that God has in store for me in waiting. He is persuading me – in his own unhurried way – that there is more to life when I’m walking with God than when I’m running.
What an amazing blessing you are for our church family. This was so needed. How we all need to be present in the waiting. Loved this article. Thank you
I couldn't agree more. Slow down and let God. He has many ways to get our attention, thankfully.
Thanks Jon