Right now as I write, one of my daughters’ cars is sitting in our driveway broken. A few days ago we realized the rear break pads were bad and needed repaired. And what began as a routine maintenance repair in the driveway quickly snowballed into finding more broken things under the broken things. The break pads were shot. The rotors were bad. The emergency break inside the rotors were falling apart. And now a caliper needs replaced too. The parts we need are back-ordered and the funds needed to make further repairs are running low. And so we wait. I detest the word “wait”.
When something is broken I want to fix it and I want to fix it now. I love the sense of completion and I don’t like it when something is incomplete. That’s the problem with brokenness isn’t it? When something’s broken it needs to be fixed. To be put back in order. To be made right. And waiting for things to be made right, to be put back in order, to be fixed, to be complete feels like a slow painful death. It doesn’t feel like life.
It’s not just waiting to see things like broken cars fixed that gets my blood boiling either. This is the painful truth isn’t it? Everywhere I look I see brokenness. I am broken. People around me are broken. We are not right. We are not complete. We are not fixed. We are disordered. And so we wait for completion. We wait for order. We wait for being fixed. We wait for life to be made right. And somewhere in the midst of the waiting where things feel like a slow painful death, I realize there is life in the waiting.
Someone once said that there can be no new life without something being put to death. So if waiting is like a slow painful death then waiting is also the place of new life. Out with the old and in with the new.
I want my cake and I want it now. I want the supposed good life now and I want it just how I envision it. It’s same for all of us isn’t it? A friend of mine wants his single life to be over right now so that he can experience the happiness of marriage. Another friend of mine wants her divorce from her abusive ex to be over now so she can move on with healing and closure. Another friend who’s struggled with a lifetime of the effects of autism wants to feel normal. Another friend who’s in the hospital right now for a list of physical ailments wants to be healthy again. Another friend who’s been battling addictions for years wants to be completely free from the temptation and impulses to sin in this way.
Another friend is facing serious financial ruin and is struggling with the waiting process as he and his wife learn how to manage their money and dig their way out. Another friend and his wife are waiting to see where the Lord calls them next as they process and walk out the end of their ministry season in the location where they serve. Another friend is waiting for his daughter to trust in Christ. Another friend is waiting for the day when he will be able to hear again. Another friend is waiting for his eyesight to return. Another friend is waiting for the day when she will pass from this life and her emotional and physical suffering will be over. My children get whiny when they have to wait for something. I get whiny too. Sometimes they throw emotional tantrums. I suppose I do to.
And as I listen to my friends and my children, and to the rhythms of my soul, I realize that we hate waiting but in the waiting something is happening. I am learning that nothing will be put into complete order in this life. Nothing will be completely fixed in this life. Nothing will be done in this life. There will always be a brokenness under the surface of the next broken thing that will need to be fixed, completed or made right. And into the midst of that waiting upon waiting upon waiting I am learning that happiness found in momentary completion is fleeting. It doesn’t last.
The happiness I feel now for a sermon well preached or a counseling session gone good or a plan being executed or this journal entry getting done will all fail me because there is nothing new under the sun and tomorrow will at some point become today and there will be new things to wait upon that will continue putting what is broken in me to death.
The good news is, while not everything will be fixed or complete in this life, and while I wait amidst the brokenness, their is hope and joy in that everything will be fixed and made right and complete on the day when I run into Heaven. And there are things right now that are a taste of the coming of Heaven. This is what it’s like to wait for completion amidst the brokenness. This is what it’s like to live with joy amidst suffering. This is what it’s like to resist the temptation for momentary happiness that parades in front of me like eternal joy.
I’ve tasted enough momentary happiness to know that it’s a facade. Not that I won’t go back to that broken facet and try to drink deeply tomorrow by attempting to control the outcome of a situation, or giving myself a pat on the back for something gone right or playing in the dirt of the grey spaces with other friends or giving in to despair in the moment… but in this moment… I want to find an abiding joy and contentment in the blessing of waiting.
In the waiting, I want to rest in the presence of God. In the waiting, I want to ask for enduring fruit like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control to be brought to life in the slow painful death of waiting. In the waiting, I want to die to all that is unholy in me as God forms new life in me. In the waiting, I want to thirst for God’s voice over me, calling me his son, to be enough for me no matter what the circumstances are. In the waiting, I want to submit to the Spirit of God as he molds me into someone brand new. In the waiting, I want to become a person who lives among the broken as a broken person who desires another opportunity to wait.
This passage of Scripture has been helpful to me today as I wait among the waiting…
Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you. – Psalm 33:20 – 22