Many of us are waiting. It could be for circumstances to change, or to finish school, or for treatment to end. Waiting can be a place of impatience, or a position of peace. It can foster powerlessness, or trust. 

Most of the things I waited for arrived on their own timeline, whether it was a toddler to be out of diapers or a college student to come home for the summer. My eagerness had no measurable impact. 

A friend was telling me about a message he received from his wife. The woman who is no longer there when he wakes up, the one whose face he can only see in his memory. 

"I've been waiting."

He wrote it down to capture it, lest it slip away like she has. It did not feel like a toe tapping concern, nor a wistful longing. Rather it expressed her acceptance of this temporary distance, the one that is breaking his heart. 

God has the advantage, it seems. Being unrestrained by clocks and calendars, there are no delays. As someone who sometimes peeks at the last chapter of a suspenseful book, I am hungry for reassurance. But something is lost when I try to skip to the end. 

"Wait on the Lord;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the Lord!" Psalm 27