About a year ago, I was waiting. Waiting for God to tell me what university to go to, what course to study, and ultimately – what to do with my life. Those couple of months of waiting taught me a lot. Patience mostly, and the value of the waiting.
God-given dreams can sometimes feel like a cheque with the amount written, but without a date. A promise that we hold, but with no way of knowing when that promise can be cashed in and fulfilled. So, we wait. We hold the promise close to our chest and go about our lives.
Even though we are still living life, it can feel like we are standing still. It’s a hard line to walk, the line between being productive in the things God has given for here and now, while still waiting on a promise and not rushing ahead to grab it for ourselves.
In those months of waiting, I learned things from what I did in that waiting season that were essential to me being able to keep my head above water once the waiting was over and the promise started to become a reality.
One night when I was questioning the worth of my waiting and asking God about my future, I wrote this little piece of prose. I pray that as you read this, God will give you the same peace about the waiting that He gave me as I wrote it:
Damp Waiting Sand
There’s been a stirring, a slow growing, a clock ticking, a tide turning. A change almost imperceptible to the naked eye. A change only noticed when the waves gently embrace the toes of the waiting. The toes and feet that weren’t going anywhere, weren’t moving forward. Quite the opposite, they felt locked by the damp sand. The feeling of being so close to the water, yet not fully acknowledged by it.
The toes that were held by the damp sand, by the promise of full immersion, waited. With a sense of unfulfillment they sank further into the moment, unsure of the worth of their waiting, unsure of the call of the waves and unsure of how deep they could go into the moment before the point of no return.
How deep do I surrender to the waiting?
But, with a whisper, the waves drew closer… the whisper, the confirmation, the acknowledgement of the damp waiting sand. Before long, the toes were fully taken under. Not by the water, but by the sand. Now knee deep in the waiting, the waiting heart began to lose hope of ever feeling the unrestrained tide.
Little did the waiting heart know, however, that the waiting wasn’t just for the gentle tide, but for the spontaneous, giggling, bubbling, rushing and intoxicating tidal wave of fulfilled hopes. The liquid form of the land of promise, that had been hidden and very nearly forgotten in the vaults of the waiting heart.
The waiting, the sinking and the pause of the waiting heart wasn’t a test, but rather a preparation. An anchoring, a grounding for the coming tide waves of hope secured.
Up to their knees and anchored in the promise… the fulfilment now wouldn’t topple them over.
A year on, immersed in study life, I can say that the waiting was worth it. The funny thing is, in some ways, the waiting is never over. God is always giving bigger and bigger dreams and we always have something held close to our chest, waiting for its fulfilment.
The great thing is, it doesn’t feel so much like waiting when you look at it as preparation. God is constantly preparing us for greater and greater things. But for now, I get to enjoy standing on the shore and being embraced by both the damp waiting sand and the unrestrained tide.
Caitlyn Furler is a lover of writing, music and people. She is a first-year university student, studying music and literature. She is a worship leader in her church and is enjoying doing braver and braver things.
Caitlyn Furler’s previous articles may be viewed at: http://www.pressserviceinternational.org/caitlyn-furler.html