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As the seasons change, I am reminded of the change beginning to take place in my own heart. Six months ago, my husband and I left a rental house, confident God would immediately provide another home. Yet here we are still cramped together in a two-hundred-square-foot tiny house, dependent on the kindness of my in-laws.
The week prior to our rental exit, I had been reading the story of Abraham. Everything in his faith journey struck a chord of relatability.
As I read about God’s promise and faithfulness to Abraham, I felt God was using his story to promise me a house. The part I neglected to focus on was God’s timeline. A timeline that made space for waiting while growing Abraham’s trust in God.
Abraham and his wife, Sarah, had to wait so long that when God reminded Sarah of His promise, she literally laughed out loud. How impossible it sounded to be pregnant at her age. But sure enough, Sarah fell pregnant, and at ninety she gave birth to Isaac. Maybe I have not waited for a home as long as Abraham and Sarah did for a child, but no matter. It has felt overwhelming and filled with despair. Thankfully a dear friend gifted me a book, Now and Not Yet: Pressing in When You’re Waiting, Wanting, and Restless for More, by Ruth Chou Simons. This book has both encouraged and challenged me. I have learned that my hope has been placed more in the deliverance from my problems rather than in the Deliverer Himself. Such a slight change in wording but a huge difference in the heart.
It is sad how much time and energy I put into wishing away the “now” for the “not yet.” My longing for what is yet to come blinded me from the precious treasures found only in the present. How easy to get caught in the trap of thinking, “Life will be better when . . .” I look through photos and videos from the summer and am blown away by the precious life I am experiencing now! God has given me so much for which to be grateful in the here and now. While I cannot wish a house into existence, I can choose to find joy even in the waiting.
So in the face of uncertainty, my heart cries out to the Lord, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You” (2 Chronicles 20:12, ESV).
Alyssa Morauske