Last evening, I was privilege to speak on the topic of hope for a women's supper. The event itself was wonderful and is an ongoing tradition for a local church in which the MEN of the church prepare and serve a formal dinner to the women of the church. How is that for a servant's heart? What a great idea. So much work went into the evening. Tables were adorned beautifully, a live band played background music for the reception, and then the evening included worship music, fabulous food, a moving devotional by a young Mom ... and then everyone had to listen to me for a while. I "hope" that the theme of "hope" came through. As usual, I think I got more of a blessing out of the evening than anyone listening. One of the things I share when I speak on the topic of hope is this poem, and I'm so often asked for copies, that I thought I'd put it here on my blog. It was a gift to me back in the 1990s when my husband Bob was battling cancer, and I honestly cannot tell you how helpful and encouraging it was.
WAIT
Desperately,
helplessly, longingly, I cried.
Quietly, patiently,
lovingly God replied.
I pled and I wept for
a clue to my fate,
and the Master so
gently said, “Child, you must wait.”
“Wait? You say,
wait!” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need
answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand
shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith, I have
asked, and am claiming your Word.
My future and all to
which I can relate
Hangs in the balance,
and YOU tell me to WAIT?
I’m needing a ‘yes,’
a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to
which I can resign.
And Lord, you
promised that if we believe
we need but to ask,
and we shall receive,
and Lord, I’ve been
asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of
asking! I need a reply!”
Then quietly, softly,
I learned of my fate
as my Master replied
once again, “You must wait.”
So, I slumped in my
chair, defeated and taut,
and grumbled to God,
“So, I’m waiting – for what?”
He seemed, then, to
kneel, and his eyes wept with mine.
And he tenderly said,
“I could give you a sign.
I could shake the
heavens, and darken the sun.
I could raise the
dead, and cause mountains to run.
All you seek, I could
give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what
you want – but you wouldn’t know me.
You’d not know the
depth of my love for each saint.
You’d not know the
power that I give to the faint.
You’d not learn to
see through the clouds of despair.
You’d not learn to trust
just by knowing I’m there.
You’d not know the
joy of resting in me
when darkness and
silence were all you could see.
You’d never
experience that fullness of love
as the peace of my
Spirit descends like a dove.
You’d know that I
give and I save (for a start),
but you’d not know
the depth of the beat of my heart.
the glory of my
comfort late into the night,
the faith that I give
when you walk without sight,
the depth that’s
beyond getting just what you asked
of an infinite God,
who makes what you have LAST.
You’d never know,
should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that
“My grace is sufficient for Thee.”
Yes, your dreams for
your loved one overnight would come true.
But, oh, the loss! If
I lost what I’m doing in you!
So, be silent, my
child, and in time you will see
that the greatest of
gifts is to get to know me.
And though oft’ may
my answers seem terribly late,
My most precious
answer of all is still, “WAIT.”
Author Unknown
