The Lord is Not Slow

The Lord is Not Slow

Propped up on my desk, challenging me to deny the truth of it, is a square of cardstock with the quote, “The Lord is not slow about his promise.” (2 Peter 3:9) And in between lectures and classes, I go back to my desk, sit down, and re-read the quote, wondering what it means or how it can be true. Just the other day, I was perusing Instagram and came across a post with a quote from C.S. Lewis saying, “I am sure that God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait.” And, on a more secular note, today I watched a recent clip from a late night show interview where a comedian spoke of the years of waiting to make it big and yet recognizing that if he had become successful earlier, he would have been less prepared to handle the current pressure.

Waiting.

Probably every other post I write deals in some way with the reality of waiting. When encountering the waiting others experience, I think I’m pretty quick to offer some “wise words” or to console them that the waiting is not in vain. Yet it is hard to carry these words in my heart and in my life, to choose to be patient and docile when it feels like the waiting is fruitless.

Recently, I assisted with prayer teams at an event and I found myself saying things like, “Don’t be too rushed to figure out your vocation, God will reveal it in time” and “God won’t forget about you–you aren’t falling behind” and “The Lord has a great plan for you and He won’t forget about you.” These are all things I believe to be true and yet part of the way through the evening, I found myself questioning how I could be so certain about it for others while being so doubtful for myself.

If I believe God has a great plan for this person I barely know, why is it so hard to believe that He has a great plan for me? If I believe God won’t abandon or forget about this person before me, why do I have the nagging concern that He might forget about me?

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To Be Patient

To Be Patient

I, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace… (Ephesians 4: 1-3)

“Are you patient?”

Mass had just concluded in the prison and the guy next to me posed this question. I thought for a second and replied with the affirmative. I think I am typically a patient person although I sometimes have my moments of losing my calm and forbearance.

“Are you patient?” I asked, turning the question back to him. Then for a while we discussed his gradual growth in patience as well as his desire to share this knowledge and growth with those near him.

Yet despite the simple question and my quick reply, the question remained lingering in my mind throughout the day.

Am I patient?

I kept trying to reassure myself that by many accounts I am incredibly patient. Sometimes students, a group of people generally not prone to throw out random compliments to their teachers, will even comment on my great patience. Occasionally this is in comparison to other teachers and at other times it is just a general statement that they think I am incredibly patient.

Regardless of these affirmations, I kept the question before me. As I started pulling up weeds and thistles in my yard, I knew I should patiently and tenderly extricate the roots from the ground. Yet I recognized that sometimes I just plucked off the visible part of the thistle, leaving the roots to simply grow and flourish again.

So maybe I’m just not very patient with weeds.

Seeing this, I found myself trying to be a bit more gentle, wiggling the leaves and slowly pulling up the long, burrowing root. It was impressive how small the weed could be above the surface and yet how long and spindly the roots could be. Several times I was amazed at what was hidden from view, what energy and strength the weed had poured into what would sustain it and not simply what I found as a nuisance in my yard.

Almost necessarily, I made the connection between these weeds and my heart.

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