Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, “Wait.”
“Wait? you say wait?” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I’m claiming your Word.
“My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I’m needing a ‘yes’, a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to which I can resign.
“You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking! I need a reply.”
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, “Wait.”
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting for what?”
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
“I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You’d have what you want, but you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint.
“You’d not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there.
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.
“You’d never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
“The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
“You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I’m doing in you.
“So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait.”
(underlining and boldness added)
I’ve been silent here for three weeks (it feels both longer and shorter than that). Life’s been full, in numerous ways, and I’ve been struggling with different things. Including writing, obviously. But I have missed this and I’m trying to get back into it. Your prayers and ideas/discussions–and perhaps some prodding 🙂–are welcome!
Anyway, about the poem. . . I’ve had it saved on Pinterest for a while, and, while scrounging for anything that might inspire me enough to blog, I came across it again.
Words from a Sunday night service almost a year ago came to mind. The man spoke about Job and pointed out that God didn’t answer Job’s questions. He didn’t tell him exactly why this all happened, didn’t explain that “Satan did this, and this was My plan, and here’s what’s going to happen, and–“. No, His 124-verses-long speech is about who He is and what He does. I don’t think anything was said about what had happened to Job; I don’t know if Job ever knew what had transpired between Satan and God. And it wasn’t that God didn’t care or couldn’t be bothered to take the time to explain. The speaker said it’s like God was saying, “Am I not enough? Do you need to know everything?”
Is He not enough? Is knowing Him and growing closer to Him not enough?
“… the greatest of gifts is to truly know [Him].”