I have never liked to wait. I come by it naturally; I remember shopping with my mother in the military commissary, strategizing how we could get in the shortest line. Granted, we hauled the thirty miles to the commissary only once a month, which meant we usually had TWO carts of food for our family of six.

Finding a short line was pretty important.

I would push one cart down the aisles, her with the other, my brother between us navigating like an airport technician, arms raising to signal us to the proper line.

I don’t like waiting for life to happen to me, so I’ve always made it happen. I liked to make a habit of multitasking…I finished fourth and fifth grade math in third grade, decided to do fifth and sixth grade in one year, and then bounced myself out of high school in three years. I waited several agonizing months for my college man to propose, but I made sure those months weren’t easy for him.

I couldn’t believe it when my first baby was nine days late.

And I still don’t like the lines at the grocery store.

Yesterday I stood in the kitchen and thought about how long I’ve been waiting for several plans to come through. And I was struck by the thought: I haven’t liked waiting my whole life. But waiting keeps coming up.
Have I learned anything?

If God is about character shaping, and He continues to bring circumstances into my life that involve waiting, have I gotten any better?

Have I learned to wait well?

And in the waiting, do I allow God to shape and reshape me? Do I allow Him to even form something new?

Thankfully, some things are clear, others still shimmer ahead, almost in view but not quite. And today, as I paused to thank God for his provision and for answered prayers. I even thanked him for the waiting, because, in the words of Gloria Gaynor, I’ve grown strong….and I’ve learned how to get along.

And wait just a little bit better.

Your Turn: What’s your relationship with waiting?