— Chapter Nineteen—
Lord, another lesson? I still have so much to learn! When I think there couldn’t possibly be any more spiritual muscles to stretch, You always find one or two that need more exercise. Stretching is learning, and learning brings more accountability to put into practice those things I know to do.
“Lord, I struggle with waiting, and I don’t even know what I’m waiting for! In Psalm 27:14 David said, ‘Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart.” Lord, how long do I wait? I feel so unsettled. I’m not comfortable in my job. I wrestle with whether I should look for another. And now that my marriage is over, I wonder whether I should stay here or move out of town. If I move, I would leave all my close friends, Lord, I’m not sure I could do that. Is all of this uncertainty for a reason? Am I on the right road, but just need to stay a little longer until You have worked out something else? Lord, I just don’t know what to do.”
I shared my struggle with my counselor, hoping he could help me sift through the rubble and find a new goal for my life.
In our discussion, he pointed out that waiting on God was good. It could become a time of tremendous spiritual growth. Then he began to share what I considered a modern-day parable about a carpenter he’d recently seen on a trip to historic Williamsburg.
In the woodworking shop which had retained its colonial appearance, a carpenter demonstrated to the tourists how the early settlers made wagon wheels. First, he cut strips for the outer rim and spokes from a supply of wood stacked in a corner of his shop. Then he shaped the hubs from wood that had been cut down and seasoned for several years. The seasoned wood was much stronger and less likely to split under pressure. The carpenter explained that the strength of the wheel depended upon the strength of the hub.
Cut down. Seasoned. My thoughts wandered. Those were easy words to straddle. Personifying this once tall and stately tree, I could relate. “That poor tree didn’t know the purpose for chopping it down. It was content growing with all the other trees, until one day someone took an ax to it! Now it lies on the ground looking up and asking why. And when spring approached, it probably eyed with envy as his fellow trees shook off winter’s cold and sprouted new and luscious leaves that would keep the forest cool and refreshing. If that weren’t enough, it must have lamented over the fact that it didn’t stand tall and sturdy anymore. It would never be in the pictures the tourists took of the beautiful foliage in the fall.
“If trees could talk, this one would probably cry out, ‘Why couldn’t I have been left alone? Why couldn’t I have continued to be a part of the forest? I’m no use! I have no life! I’m going to lie here and rot!”’
I don’t know how much of my counselor’s example I missed while wandering down that rabbit trail, but one advantage of sharing my thoughts gave me an opportunity to discuss what choices I had about waiting.
I could consider that waiting on God was a waste of time. I could forget about Him and blaze my own trail. I could have the same attitude as the tree and choose to just lie down and rot.
Or, I could choose, as my counselor encouraged, to use this time to grow strong in my faith even though I didn’t know what the Carpenter had in mind. If I waited on God, then He’d let me know when to look for another job. If I waited on God, He’d put the desire in my heart to move. If I waited on God, He’d make sure I was headed in the right direction.
Even though I had no definitive plans, I chose to just wait on God.
“Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things” (Philippians 4:8 NJV).
“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6 NIV).
Copyright 2001,2004 Donna Christensen
All rights reserved.
Published Online by: The Biblical Reader
www.biblicalreader.com