What's So Great about Being Single?
Plenty! Here's why.
Camerin Courtney
I'll admit it—there are days when if I were to write an article called "Why Being
Single Stinks," it would fill volumes. Days when the entire congregation at my church
seems made of happy couples and their charming children—while I sit in my pew
alone. Or when I receive still another wedding invitation and can't even picture
whom I'd ask to accompany me, let alone whom I could someday walk down the
aisle with once my turn comes.
But thankfully, this isn't the whole story. Just the other day my roommate, Karen,
and I were enjoying our Saturday morning tradition of banana chocolate-chip
pancakes—she dressed in plaid flannel pants and a tie-dyed t-shirt and I in my pjs
and a Pebbles Flintstone-inspired ponytail. As we plopped down in front of the tube
to watch a rerun of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, I flashed her a smile and asked,
"Aren't you glad we're single?" She looked at our clothing, our cuisine, and the cute
man on the screen, and agreed with a hearty laugh. Here are a few other things we
like about being single:
f r e e d o m
Once we got our fill of pancakes that morning, we noticed the beautiful day shaping
up outside. Karen looked at me and said, "Two words: Lake Michigan." An hour or so
later we were in my car, a frisbee in the back seat, walking shoes on our feet, our
beverage of choice—Frappuccinos—inour drink holders, and our favorite musical
soundtrack blaring out our open windows. In twenty minutes we would be breathing
in the fresh air and walking off our caffeine buzz along the rocky ledges bordering
Lake Michigan. Ahh, the single life.
Spontaneity. Freedom. Flexibility. These are some of the best things about being
single. They've allowed Karen, a middle-school teacher, to spend her summers off
teaching day camp to inner-city kids. They've allowed my friend Cheryl to travel to
Russia and share her faith with college students. They've allowed my friend Julie the
time to create the most beautiful garden in our suburb. And they've allowed me to
visit my friend Christa in Germany and take in the European experience without
missing a husband or kids back home.
Sure, we'd all someday like to have the structure of date nights and bedtime stories,
but for now we're trying to make the most of the flexibility in our Daytimers.
m a r r i e d f r I e n d s
Months ago I had lunch with Carla and Annette, two Christian coworkers of mine,
each with a marriage I admire. As we were talking about the upcoming wedding of a
mutual friend, the conversation drifted to the topic of sex. While I blushed in silence,
these frank friends told me that sex isn't always thrilling. Sometimes it's awkward
and messy, they admitted. As a single woman in our sex-saturated society,
sometimes I need to hear this.
Through listening to my married friends over the years, I've learned better than to
think that marriage's always chocolate and romance—or that it's a cure-all. These
friends aren't bashing their husbands; they're simply telling it like it is. Singleness
may have its bad days—but these friends help remind me that married life does, too.
g u y f r i e n d s
We all have our opinions on the age-old question: Can men and women be "just
friends"? In my own life, I've found the answer to be yes. And I'm really glad, too.
Because without guys like Ray and Max in my life right now, the lack of a husband or
boyfriend could seem even more pronounced. Ray—whom I met at my Bible study—
offers spiritual enthusiasm, prayer support, and a zest for life. And once he even lent
his woodworking skills when I was trying to take apart a bookshelf and strip the
paint from it. I met Max through a work connection and we talk often on the phone,
exchanging creative energy, accountability for our various writing projects, and
valuable in-sights on the opposite gender.
I fully believe God's brought these friends into my life. And if I were married right
now, I'm not sure we'd even be able to be friends. I certainly know we wouldn't be
as close as we are. So for now, in this husbandless season of my life, I'm savoring
these male friendships.
t i m e a l o n e
For the first eight months after I graduated from college, I lived alone. What could
have been the most lonely time of my life turned out to be one of the most
rewarding. I would pray out loud while washing dishes, sing along with the radio
without apology, or settle into a chair with a good book and read uninterrupted for
hours. There was a richness to this time in my life I wouldn't trade for anything—
even the days when the relative silence did actually turn into loneliness. And even on
those days, because I had no one to turn to, I'd cry out to God and sense his
presence more acutely than if I'd had the distractions of a husband and kids.
I've learned that being alone out in public has its benefits, too.
Last fall I took a business trip to New York alone. My evenings were free and
Broadway was a few blocks away, so I gathered my courage one night and went to
see a show on my own. During the intermission, I struck up a conversation with the
mom sitting next to me and discovered she and her family was from Denmark
visiting the States for the first time. We chatted for a few minutes, exchanging
cultural info we each took in with rapt interest. The next night I had dinner at a
nearby quaint Italian restaurant with a woman from Arizona I met at one of the
seminars earlier that day. After dinner we wandered over to Rockefeller Center and
people-watched as we chatted about our jobs and home states. Because I didn't
have someone else's schedule to take into consideration, I was free to take these
spur-of-the-moment excursions—and interact with interesting people along the way.
o u r g a n g
Karen, my roommate, and I have three other friends—Julie, Lisa, and Ruth—who
comprise what I jokingly refer to as Our Gang. These are the kind of close friends
who will give me a ride to the airport at 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, or bring
their own slippers when they come to our apartment for movie night. We've
laughed—when a date backed into and broke Julie's fence; we've cried—when Lisa's
grandfather's health deteriorated rapidly and he recently died; we've celebrated—
when Karen bought her first new car last year. We've even traveled together to San
Antonio, Texas, a couple Thanksgivings ago for a much-needed vacation.
It took me a while to settle into these close friendships, but it's neat to look back at
how God wove each one of these treasured friends into my circle. I know that
someday our tight ties will have to lessen when and if husbands finally grace the
scene. But until that one special man enters my life, I'm thankful for these four
special friends who meet my relational needs. And seeing how God brought them
each to me at just the right time gives me renewed faith that if a husband's in his
will for me, God will do the same with my Mr. Right.
Make the Most of Your Singleness
1. Ask Around.
Talk to your married friends and find out what they miss most about being
single. Is it girls' nights out? Is it the time to take a photography class? Take
advantage of these opportunities now so you'll have no regrets later.
2. Make a List.
What do you want to accomplish in life—write a book? Travel to Italy?
Participate in a short-term missions trip? Write all this down on a master list,
then pick one thing and go for it. Don't let waiting for a husband put your life
on hold.
3. Pray.
Ecclesiastes 3 tells us there are specific purposes for certain seasons of life.
Ask God what unique things he wants you to do or learn in this single season.
Obedience to these things will draw you closer to him and make for an
exciting ride.
4. Invest in Others.
Since you're not focusing a majority of your relational energy into a husband
right now, you've got a lot to give. There are Sunday school classes, refugee
families, and weary neighbors who could be eternally blessed by your
involvement in their lives. And the joy you'll receive in return will help chase
away those lonely days.
5. Get Going.
There's a lot to see and do in this big world and now's your best chance to
take it all in. A road trip with friends is always a bonding experience. And it's
never too late for a family vacation. Enrich your life by broadening its
boundaries. (You never know whom you may meet along the way!)
1998 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian Woman magazine.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Work the Wait
Work the Wait
How I make the most of God's delays
Stephanie Voiland
When will I get my turn to hang a white dress in my closet?" I mumbled as I hung up myfourth bridesmaid dress last summer. A single 29-year-old, I'd watched friend after friendjoin the ranks of "Mrs."; I couldn't help but wonder, How much longer, God?
As I contemplated my life's many delays, I realized I don't like waiting—and I'm not verygood at it. But I wanted to grow during my waiting seasons rather than become bitter orlose faith. So I asked God to show me how he's working through these divine delays.
Reminders of Redemption
Sometimes, a wait seems to have no apparent reason. The delay is simply the product ofa sin-ravaged world.
My friend Tiffanie, after finishing grad school, spent months searching for a job. As leadsfailed to pan out into paychecks, she became discouraged.
Yet, much to my admiration, Tiffanie refused to anesthetize the waiting ache. For threemonths, she fasted from TV because she believed God had "given me the time (whether Iasked for it or not) to reflect on what I have and where I'm headed."
Throughout those agonizing months, God showed up in ways more profound than a joboffer. She was looking for a way to support herself; God taught her a new level ofdependence on him. She was desperately waiting for a potential employer's phone call;instead, God spoke into her soul's quiet places. She was searching for a genie-god toprovide instantly for her needs; God blew her away by revealing he's much better andbigger than she'd ever dreamed.
Strangely, it's in the bleakest waiting moments that God's interventionmanifests itself most clearly.
Eventually, Tiffanie landed a job, and she was grateful for the answered prayer. But shewas even more grateful to learn God meets us through the waiting journey in waysbeyond those originally asked or imagined. And he lovingly reminds us he can redeemany situation.
The Timing of Trust
Strangely, it's in the bleakest waiting moments that God's intervention manifests itselfmost clearly. Sometimes, those miracles are glamorous. We receive the perfect job, thephysical healing, the necessary funds—and the wait is over.But other times, God does the miracle in us.
Not long ago, as I was sitting down to dinner with my parents, they received a phone callfrom a hospital: "Your son's been in an accident. … Can't give details. … Come as soon as you can. … " In a trance, I stumbled to the car with my parents and sister. Those twohours on the way to the hospital were the longest of my life. I wish my immediatereaction had been peace, communion with God, or some other super-spiritualphenomenon. But the feeling in my gut was more like numbness and nausea. My mindchurned with questions: Is he going to survive? Will he walk again? Waiting for detailsunknown and out of my control was terrifying.
Somewhere between my parents' home and the hospital, however, a remarkable thinghappened. Ever so subtly in that night's uncertainty, the Holy Spirit crept into mypersonal waiting room. I was still terrified. But underneath that layer of fear, I foundmyself standing on an infinitely solid truth, one no car accident could steal. I didn't knowwhat we'd find when we arrived at the hospital. But I knew whatever it was, God wouldstill be God.
My circumstances hadn't changed. Yet in the midst of waiting, I'd learned a new kind oftrust. And this learning, in itself, was almost like a miracle.
Thankfully, my brother walked out of the hospital a week later with merely a row ofstitches above one eye and a scar over his left lung. I walked away with a freshperspective on what it means to trust God without knowing the outcome. Waitingseasons are still painful. But deep within me, God is at work, assuring me he won't wastemy heartaches. That even if he doesn't make my situations better, he'll somehow makeme better through them.
A Compassionate Presence
Often a wait seems long when life doesn't unfold according to our agendas. Butsometimes God has amazing reasons for a delay.
I learned that great lesson about waiting from the story of Lazarus's resurrection ().Jesus was good friends with Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. Christ evencrashed at their place occasionally. So surely when he heard Lazarus was ill, he'd rush tohis side and heal him! Instead, we read this haunting sentence: "Although Jesus lovedMartha, Mary and Lazarus, he stayed where he was for the next two days" (verses 5–6).My knee-jerk reaction is to cry, "Hello! Why were you waiting? That's not love!" Marthaand Mary were slightly more diplomatic, but they expressed the same sentiment: "Lord,if only you had been here" (verses 21 and 32).
With our limited vision, Mary, Martha, and I couldn't see God sometimes doesn't give uswhat we request so he can give us something better. Jesus said the death of Lazarus"happened for the glory of God so that the Son of God will receive glory for this" (verse4). Granted, a healing would have been amazing. But Jesus had a bigger plan thatcouldn't occur without Lazarus's time in the grave.
While waiting for this plan to unfold, Mary and Martha must have taken comfort in onesmall action of Jesus. It would have been easy to miss, since it fell somewhere betweentheir initial grief and Jesus' most astounding miracle. The moment is easy for us tooverlook too, since it's recorded in the Bible's shortest verse: "Jesus wept" (verse 35).He hurt because he saw Mary and Martha's pain.
He doesn't orchestrate broken bodies and hearts as some sort of spiritual boot camp,while he stands aloof shouting orders. He doesn't insist we get over our waiting ache.Rather, he aches and walks with us to help us navigate our fractured world.
The flesh-and-blood God, who shed real tears, was with Mary and Martha. And when wefeel alone in our wait, he promises the same: "Never will I leave you; never will I forsakeyou" ().
I’d still like a white dress to hang in my closet someday—preferably someday soon. Butnow as I wait, I'm careful not merely to mark time, so preoccupied with what's next thatI miss out on what's now. I'm striving to wait well. And part of waiting well, I've learned,is being open to God's lessons about redemption, trust, compassion, and his higherpurposes along the way.
Until I see God face-to-face, I'll always wait for something. Or rather, Someone. And as Ilong for earthly things, I'll allow them to point me to the deepest longing in my soul. He'sthe One I await.
Copyright © 2008 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian Woman magazine.
How I make the most of God's delays
Stephanie Voiland
When will I get my turn to hang a white dress in my closet?" I mumbled as I hung up myfourth bridesmaid dress last summer. A single 29-year-old, I'd watched friend after friendjoin the ranks of "Mrs."; I couldn't help but wonder, How much longer, God?
As I contemplated my life's many delays, I realized I don't like waiting—and I'm not verygood at it. But I wanted to grow during my waiting seasons rather than become bitter orlose faith. So I asked God to show me how he's working through these divine delays.
Reminders of Redemption
Sometimes, a wait seems to have no apparent reason. The delay is simply the product ofa sin-ravaged world.
My friend Tiffanie, after finishing grad school, spent months searching for a job. As leadsfailed to pan out into paychecks, she became discouraged.
Yet, much to my admiration, Tiffanie refused to anesthetize the waiting ache. For threemonths, she fasted from TV because she believed God had "given me the time (whether Iasked for it or not) to reflect on what I have and where I'm headed."
Throughout those agonizing months, God showed up in ways more profound than a joboffer. She was looking for a way to support herself; God taught her a new level ofdependence on him. She was desperately waiting for a potential employer's phone call;instead, God spoke into her soul's quiet places. She was searching for a genie-god toprovide instantly for her needs; God blew her away by revealing he's much better andbigger than she'd ever dreamed.
Strangely, it's in the bleakest waiting moments that God's interventionmanifests itself most clearly.
Eventually, Tiffanie landed a job, and she was grateful for the answered prayer. But shewas even more grateful to learn God meets us through the waiting journey in waysbeyond those originally asked or imagined. And he lovingly reminds us he can redeemany situation.
The Timing of Trust
Strangely, it's in the bleakest waiting moments that God's intervention manifests itselfmost clearly. Sometimes, those miracles are glamorous. We receive the perfect job, thephysical healing, the necessary funds—and the wait is over.But other times, God does the miracle in us.
Not long ago, as I was sitting down to dinner with my parents, they received a phone callfrom a hospital: "Your son's been in an accident. … Can't give details. … Come as soon as you can. … " In a trance, I stumbled to the car with my parents and sister. Those twohours on the way to the hospital were the longest of my life. I wish my immediatereaction had been peace, communion with God, or some other super-spiritualphenomenon. But the feeling in my gut was more like numbness and nausea. My mindchurned with questions: Is he going to survive? Will he walk again? Waiting for detailsunknown and out of my control was terrifying.
Somewhere between my parents' home and the hospital, however, a remarkable thinghappened. Ever so subtly in that night's uncertainty, the Holy Spirit crept into mypersonal waiting room. I was still terrified. But underneath that layer of fear, I foundmyself standing on an infinitely solid truth, one no car accident could steal. I didn't knowwhat we'd find when we arrived at the hospital. But I knew whatever it was, God wouldstill be God.
My circumstances hadn't changed. Yet in the midst of waiting, I'd learned a new kind oftrust. And this learning, in itself, was almost like a miracle.
Thankfully, my brother walked out of the hospital a week later with merely a row ofstitches above one eye and a scar over his left lung. I walked away with a freshperspective on what it means to trust God without knowing the outcome. Waitingseasons are still painful. But deep within me, God is at work, assuring me he won't wastemy heartaches. That even if he doesn't make my situations better, he'll somehow makeme better through them.
A Compassionate Presence
Often a wait seems long when life doesn't unfold according to our agendas. Butsometimes God has amazing reasons for a delay.
I learned that great lesson about waiting from the story of Lazarus's resurrection ().Jesus was good friends with Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. Christ evencrashed at their place occasionally. So surely when he heard Lazarus was ill, he'd rush tohis side and heal him! Instead, we read this haunting sentence: "Although Jesus lovedMartha, Mary and Lazarus, he stayed where he was for the next two days" (verses 5–6).My knee-jerk reaction is to cry, "Hello! Why were you waiting? That's not love!" Marthaand Mary were slightly more diplomatic, but they expressed the same sentiment: "Lord,if only you had been here" (verses 21 and 32).
With our limited vision, Mary, Martha, and I couldn't see God sometimes doesn't give uswhat we request so he can give us something better. Jesus said the death of Lazarus"happened for the glory of God so that the Son of God will receive glory for this" (verse4). Granted, a healing would have been amazing. But Jesus had a bigger plan thatcouldn't occur without Lazarus's time in the grave.
While waiting for this plan to unfold, Mary and Martha must have taken comfort in onesmall action of Jesus. It would have been easy to miss, since it fell somewhere betweentheir initial grief and Jesus' most astounding miracle. The moment is easy for us tooverlook too, since it's recorded in the Bible's shortest verse: "Jesus wept" (verse 35).He hurt because he saw Mary and Martha's pain.
He doesn't orchestrate broken bodies and hearts as some sort of spiritual boot camp,while he stands aloof shouting orders. He doesn't insist we get over our waiting ache.Rather, he aches and walks with us to help us navigate our fractured world.
The flesh-and-blood God, who shed real tears, was with Mary and Martha. And when wefeel alone in our wait, he promises the same: "Never will I leave you; never will I forsakeyou" ().
I’d still like a white dress to hang in my closet someday—preferably someday soon. Butnow as I wait, I'm careful not merely to mark time, so preoccupied with what's next thatI miss out on what's now. I'm striving to wait well. And part of waiting well, I've learned,is being open to God's lessons about redemption, trust, compassion, and his higherpurposes along the way.
Until I see God face-to-face, I'll always wait for something. Or rather, Someone. And as Ilong for earthly things, I'll allow them to point me to the deepest longing in my soul. He'sthe One I await.
Copyright © 2008 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian Woman magazine.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
When Life's on Hold
When Life's on Hold
Three ways to find worth in your wait.
Faith Tibbetts McDonald
Give me more than a minute to scan the tabloid headlines in the grocery store check-out line, and I become a frenzied, toe-tapping, scowling creep. In one such moment, I actually considered jamming my cart into the heels of a shopper who cut in line.
Conditioned by our instant-messaging, fast-food eating, "need it now" culture, I've developed an intolerance for waiting. Sometimes, I'm so intent on reaching a goal or straining toward a coveted destination, I forget the Bible considers waiting good: "It is good to wait patiently for the Lord to save us," says Lamentations 3:26 (CEV).
Our lives include different types of waiting that span a variety of circumstances. Some waits are merely annoying inconveniences. Others are rife with threats.
I experienced both the morning of September 11, 2001. I began the day in a doctor's waiting room with my daughter, who was scheduled for an 8:30 checkup. By 9:30, the embarrassed receptionist apologized profusely for the delay. As it turned out, the doctor wasn't even in the building. Fuming over wasted time and our subsequent tardiness, I left and headed for my daughter's school. Abruptly, news reports of terrorist attacks jarred the morning's first wait into perspective. My minor inconvenience no longer concerned me as I entered a more emotionally arduous wait for word from my husband who was visiting Philadelphia and staying near places being evacuated in case of another attack. Much more agonizing was the wait of those whose loved ones never came home that day. When the wait is inexplicable and steeped in suffering, we have to cling to God.
I've learned this lesson from watching my friend Lisa. While in his early thirties, Lisa's husband was severely debilitated by a crippling disease. At its onset, I waited with Lisa for a miracle that didn't come. Her husband now lives apart from his family in a nursing home where he's surrounded by dying people twice his age. I've prayed. I've cried. I've accused God of turning his back on Lisa and her family. Each time, God gently turns my face to gaze on him, not the circumstance.
In a wait that doesn't seem to end, we must look beyond our surroundings to God and trust him with the outcome. While the wait is grueling, God never puts us on hold to tend to more urgent matters; his purpose always is being fulfilled in our waiting.
From God's perspective, waiting is an exercise he's designed to help us develop patience, a sign of spiritual maturity. The New Testament writer James urges us to "Let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing" (James 1:4, NKJV).
Sometimes waiting builds our character; other times it's God's way of granting us a much-needed rest. For example, last year my job ended abruptly. While I looked for another, my less-hectic schedule provided opportunities for me to enjoy my family, exercise more, and dabble in projects. I was thankful for the breather when, as suddenly as the first job ended, another employment opportunity opened up. God knows when we're exhausted, and he wants us to have time to catch our breath. Psalm 23:2, 3 reminds us, "He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul."
If you're going through a waiting period, here are three ways to profit from it:
1. Wait quietly.
When I was growing up, our family traveled three long days by car from Canada to New England every other summer to visit relatives. I was the child who trumpeted in time with the mile markers: "Are we there yet?"
Today we live in the busiest, noisiest time in history. But God encourages his waiting ones to be still and spend time being quiet. I've learned to quell my fretting about wasting time waiting by thinking about God's promises. While between jobs, I returned repeatedly to this verse from Psalm 16:5: "Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure." Knowing God had secured my future, I could wait quietly for him to reveal his plan.
I often write helpful Scriptures on index cards and carry them with me. When my thoughts become disquieted, I read the verses and ask God to help me see his perspective on waiting.
In the Christian classic Abundant Living, author E. Stanley Jones says it's in spending quiet time with God that a Christian gains poise and power. Jones says, "One translator interprets the command, 'Be still, and know that I am God' this way: 'Be silent to God, and he will mold you.' Be silent to God, and he will make you become the instrument of his purposes. [In silence] an all-wise Mind will brood over your mind, awakening it, stimulating it, and making it creative."
When I'm silent before God, I know most vividly he hasn't deserted my friend Lisa and her husband. God has a message in your wait, and in silence you can hear it clearly.
2. Wait hopefully.
I pull out all the stops when it comes to waiting despairingly. When my doctor leaves me a message to call his office, I panic. While dialing his number, I convince myself he's going to tell me I've contracted an incurable disease.
When I'm called to wait, I think the worst. But the Bible reminds us to wait hopefully. "No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame … you are God my Savior," says Psalm 25:3,5. Biblical hope isn't a wishy-washy, "I hope this will turn out for good, but maybe it won't" attitude. Biblical hope is the confident assurance that God's in charge—no matter what.
We can have the same hope the Old Testament patriarch Abraham had awaiting the fulfillment of God's promise he would become the father of many nations. The Bible says, "Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed … he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead … yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised" (Romans 4:18-20).
3. Wait obediently.
As a child, I'd stealthily unwrap, then rewrap, the Christmas gifts my parents had purchased for me. I couldn't bear waiting until Christmas morning to open them! However, I've learned the only waiting that's beneficial is obedient waiting, which takes place by aligning my actions as closely as I can with scriptural principles and asking God to adjust my attitude.
My friend Lisa, whose husband is living in a nursing home, endures her wait, knowing its culmination most likely will happen in eternity, when Jesus wipes away her tears and relieves her husband's suffering (Revelation 21:4). Lisa says the only way to wait obediently is to focus on God.
How does she do this? "When I'm overwhelmed, I cry to God in sheer desperation," she says, "and he always comes through. Sometimes he uses the words of a song, sometimes it's something one of my kids says. When I cry to God, he does whatever it takes to encourage me."
As we wait on God, we must stay obedient. As I wait for God to change my teen's heart, I must learn to put aside sarcasm—a tool I'm too often tempted to use—and allow God's love to work through me. When the wait's too much to bear, I surrender it to God by setting aside time to visit a scenic place—I'm partial to beaches. There I concentrate on God's magnificence, then surrender the wait to him by physically acting out the motion of handing my wait over from my hands to his. When I'm later plagued by worry or questions, I think back to the day on the beach when I surrendered the wait, and I remind myself I've given it to him. He'll come through.
voices a servant's cry. The Psalm brims with the promise that those who obey God's statutes will be satisfied. They will not wait in vain. While you wait, live according to God's Word, seek him, and meditate on his message.
Faith Tibbetts McDonald, a university writing instructor and freelance writer, lives in Pennsylvania.
Copyright © 2002 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian Woman magazine.
Three ways to find worth in your wait.
Faith Tibbetts McDonald
Give me more than a minute to scan the tabloid headlines in the grocery store check-out line, and I become a frenzied, toe-tapping, scowling creep. In one such moment, I actually considered jamming my cart into the heels of a shopper who cut in line.
Conditioned by our instant-messaging, fast-food eating, "need it now" culture, I've developed an intolerance for waiting. Sometimes, I'm so intent on reaching a goal or straining toward a coveted destination, I forget the Bible considers waiting good: "It is good to wait patiently for the Lord to save us," says Lamentations 3:26 (CEV).
Our lives include different types of waiting that span a variety of circumstances. Some waits are merely annoying inconveniences. Others are rife with threats.
I experienced both the morning of September 11, 2001. I began the day in a doctor's waiting room with my daughter, who was scheduled for an 8:30 checkup. By 9:30, the embarrassed receptionist apologized profusely for the delay. As it turned out, the doctor wasn't even in the building. Fuming over wasted time and our subsequent tardiness, I left and headed for my daughter's school. Abruptly, news reports of terrorist attacks jarred the morning's first wait into perspective. My minor inconvenience no longer concerned me as I entered a more emotionally arduous wait for word from my husband who was visiting Philadelphia and staying near places being evacuated in case of another attack. Much more agonizing was the wait of those whose loved ones never came home that day. When the wait is inexplicable and steeped in suffering, we have to cling to God.
I've learned this lesson from watching my friend Lisa. While in his early thirties, Lisa's husband was severely debilitated by a crippling disease. At its onset, I waited with Lisa for a miracle that didn't come. Her husband now lives apart from his family in a nursing home where he's surrounded by dying people twice his age. I've prayed. I've cried. I've accused God of turning his back on Lisa and her family. Each time, God gently turns my face to gaze on him, not the circumstance.
In a wait that doesn't seem to end, we must look beyond our surroundings to God and trust him with the outcome. While the wait is grueling, God never puts us on hold to tend to more urgent matters; his purpose always is being fulfilled in our waiting.
From God's perspective, waiting is an exercise he's designed to help us develop patience, a sign of spiritual maturity. The New Testament writer James urges us to "Let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing" (James 1:4, NKJV).
Sometimes waiting builds our character; other times it's God's way of granting us a much-needed rest. For example, last year my job ended abruptly. While I looked for another, my less-hectic schedule provided opportunities for me to enjoy my family, exercise more, and dabble in projects. I was thankful for the breather when, as suddenly as the first job ended, another employment opportunity opened up. God knows when we're exhausted, and he wants us to have time to catch our breath. Psalm 23:2, 3 reminds us, "He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul."
If you're going through a waiting period, here are three ways to profit from it:
1. Wait quietly.
When I was growing up, our family traveled three long days by car from Canada to New England every other summer to visit relatives. I was the child who trumpeted in time with the mile markers: "Are we there yet?"
Today we live in the busiest, noisiest time in history. But God encourages his waiting ones to be still and spend time being quiet. I've learned to quell my fretting about wasting time waiting by thinking about God's promises. While between jobs, I returned repeatedly to this verse from Psalm 16:5: "Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure." Knowing God had secured my future, I could wait quietly for him to reveal his plan.
I often write helpful Scriptures on index cards and carry them with me. When my thoughts become disquieted, I read the verses and ask God to help me see his perspective on waiting.
In the Christian classic Abundant Living, author E. Stanley Jones says it's in spending quiet time with God that a Christian gains poise and power. Jones says, "One translator interprets the command, 'Be still, and know that I am God' this way: 'Be silent to God, and he will mold you.' Be silent to God, and he will make you become the instrument of his purposes. [In silence] an all-wise Mind will brood over your mind, awakening it, stimulating it, and making it creative."
When I'm silent before God, I know most vividly he hasn't deserted my friend Lisa and her husband. God has a message in your wait, and in silence you can hear it clearly.
2. Wait hopefully.
I pull out all the stops when it comes to waiting despairingly. When my doctor leaves me a message to call his office, I panic. While dialing his number, I convince myself he's going to tell me I've contracted an incurable disease.
When I'm called to wait, I think the worst. But the Bible reminds us to wait hopefully. "No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame … you are God my Savior," says Psalm 25:3,5. Biblical hope isn't a wishy-washy, "I hope this will turn out for good, but maybe it won't" attitude. Biblical hope is the confident assurance that God's in charge—no matter what.
We can have the same hope the Old Testament patriarch Abraham had awaiting the fulfillment of God's promise he would become the father of many nations. The Bible says, "Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed … he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead … yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised" (Romans 4:18-20).
3. Wait obediently.
As a child, I'd stealthily unwrap, then rewrap, the Christmas gifts my parents had purchased for me. I couldn't bear waiting until Christmas morning to open them! However, I've learned the only waiting that's beneficial is obedient waiting, which takes place by aligning my actions as closely as I can with scriptural principles and asking God to adjust my attitude.
My friend Lisa, whose husband is living in a nursing home, endures her wait, knowing its culmination most likely will happen in eternity, when Jesus wipes away her tears and relieves her husband's suffering (Revelation 21:4). Lisa says the only way to wait obediently is to focus on God.
How does she do this? "When I'm overwhelmed, I cry to God in sheer desperation," she says, "and he always comes through. Sometimes he uses the words of a song, sometimes it's something one of my kids says. When I cry to God, he does whatever it takes to encourage me."
As we wait on God, we must stay obedient. As I wait for God to change my teen's heart, I must learn to put aside sarcasm—a tool I'm too often tempted to use—and allow God's love to work through me. When the wait's too much to bear, I surrender it to God by setting aside time to visit a scenic place—I'm partial to beaches. There I concentrate on God's magnificence, then surrender the wait to him by physically acting out the motion of handing my wait over from my hands to his. When I'm later plagued by worry or questions, I think back to the day on the beach when I surrendered the wait, and I remind myself I've given it to him. He'll come through.
voices a servant's cry. The Psalm brims with the promise that those who obey God's statutes will be satisfied. They will not wait in vain. While you wait, live according to God's Word, seek him, and meditate on his message.
Faith Tibbetts McDonald, a university writing instructor and freelance writer, lives in Pennsylvania.
Copyright © 2002 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian Woman magazine.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Prayers That Move the Heart of God
Prayers That Move the Heart of God
How to cultivate a meaningful conversation with the Lord.
Nancy Guthrie
That's one of the big differences between God's parenting and mine. God doesn't give me everything I repeatedly ask for when he knows it's not best for me. But a shallow reading of Luke 11:9-10 could lead me to think otherwise. There Jesus says, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."
Is the way to get what I want from God through wearing him down, or getting as many people as possible to ask God for it? What kinds of prayer really move the heart and hand of God?
Secret-Formula Prayer vs. Seeking Prayer
As his parent, I don't want Matt to try to get what he wants by constantly begging me for it or getting everyone he knows to gang up on me. I want to hear his heart on the matter, and I want him to hear mine. I want us to have a conversation. Isn't that how it is with our heavenly Father? Prayer is about a conversation with our loving God—not about wearing him down to get what we want.
There's so much to want—healed bodies, restored relationships, changed circumstances. But asking, seeking, and knocking aren't secret formulas for getting what we want from God; they're ways to get more of God. As I listen to God speak to me through his Word, he gives me more of himself in fuller, newer ways. Then, if healing doesn't come, if the relationship remains broken, or if the pressures increase, I have the opportunity to discover for myself he is enough. His presence is enough. His purpose is enough.
If you truly want to move God's heart, put aside secret-formula prayer and instead begin to practice prayer that seeks the Giver more than the gifts.
Prayer is changing me from someone who knew a lot about God into someone who's experiencing God in deep, though sometimes difficult, ways.
Superficial Prayer vs. Significant Prayer
Sometimes I catch myself "chatting" with God, limiting my prayers to superficial things and surface issues, never getting to the heart of the matter. And I've noticed that when others offer prayer requests, they're rarely about spiritual needs. We ask God to heal physical ailments, provide safe travel, and to "be with us."
Of course God cares about these things. But prayer is spiritual work toward a spiritual end. God wants to rub off our rough edges and clean up our character. So why do we settle for talking to him only about the superficial stuff? When our prayers move from the superficial to the significant, we invite God to do no less than a deep, transforming, igniting work in our life and in the lives of those for whom we're praying.
I've often found myself slipping into superficial mode in my prayers for Matt—asking God to keep him safe or to bless his day at school. But I really don't want to settle for those things. So my prayers have moved from the superficial to the significant. I'm asking God to shape Matt's character—even if it requires some struggle. I'm begging the Holy Spirit to ignite in Matt a passion for holiness and a love for God's Word. These are things that really matter. This is what significant prayer is all about.
Showy Prayer vs. Secret Prayer
Several years ago, at a friend's wedding, a college friend described me to her other friends as "a prayer warrior." Her comment surprised me because I knew it wasn't true. I guess I'd made a great impression with my public prayers at our weekly Bible study group in college. But the truth was, there wasn't much private prayer going on in my life.
If I'm not careful, I still can make prayer all about impressing others with my pseudo-spirituality. That's "showy prayer"—prayer that's more for others' ears than for God's. Jesus warned against this: "When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the doors and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you" (Matthew 6:5-6).
Showy prayer uses put-on voices, lofty words, and spiritual-sounding phrases; simple prayer is authentic and humble. I can perform public prayers or make claims of private prayer, and settle for the applause of people; or I can go to a secret place, shut the door, and commune with God. It's in that secret place with him you and I find our most blessed reward—not impressing others, but cultivating true intimacy with him.
Insistent Prayer vs. Submissive Prayer
Nothing's taught me more about prayer than Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. According to Hebrews 5:7-8, "during the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered."
This moves me, because I know what it's like to offer prayers with loud cries and tears, to come before God with a broken heart and a desperate need. Several years ago, physicians told my husband and me that because of a rare metabolic disorder, our newborn daughter, Hope, would live for only two or three months.
Time seemed to be slipping away so quickly when one day, as I rocked Hope in the nursery we'd prepared for her—tears spilling down my face—I thought, I'll ask God to give Hope more time. It seemed such a modest prayer; I'd already surrendered any insistence God heal her completely. But even as that prayer formed in my mind, I sensed God calling me to submit to his perfect timing. So my prayer instead became, Give me strength to make the most of every day you give me with Hope. Show me how to rest in your plan for her life and mine.
In Hope's life and death, I learned what it is to pray to a God who has the power to make another way … but chooses not to. It helps to know Jesus understands what this feels like. Like Jesus, I've wrestled with God's plan for my life even as I've sought to submit to it. But Jesus shows me how to obey when God's answer to my sincere, reverent prayer is "no." I also see Jesus' example of obedience.
I've learned that submissive prayer is prayer that welcomes God to work in and through my suffering rather than begs him to take it away. It's thanking God for what he gives me rather than resenting him for what I lose. Submissive prayer is changing me from someone who knew a lot about God into someone who's experiencing God in deep, though sometimes difficult, ways.
Too often I still find myself merely going through the motions of prayer, but I want to pray in a way that's authentic, sincere, and effective. I'm learning to go to my heavenly Father in the way I want my son to come to me. I want to hear what Matt wants and needs. I want to respond. I want to be active in his life, doing what I know is best for him.
Our heavenly Father's no different. He has no need for a show or secret formulas, and he's not interested in keeping things superficial. He loves it when we come to him—and he simply wants to talk with us.
Nancy Guthrie is the author of Holding On to Hope: A Pathway Through Suffering to the Heart of God and The One Year Book of Hope (both Tyndale).
Copyright © 2006 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian Woman magazine.
How to cultivate a meaningful conversation with the Lord.
Nancy Guthrie
That's one of the big differences between God's parenting and mine. God doesn't give me everything I repeatedly ask for when he knows it's not best for me. But a shallow reading of Luke 11:9-10 could lead me to think otherwise. There Jesus says, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."
Is the way to get what I want from God through wearing him down, or getting as many people as possible to ask God for it? What kinds of prayer really move the heart and hand of God?
Secret-Formula Prayer vs. Seeking Prayer
As his parent, I don't want Matt to try to get what he wants by constantly begging me for it or getting everyone he knows to gang up on me. I want to hear his heart on the matter, and I want him to hear mine. I want us to have a conversation. Isn't that how it is with our heavenly Father? Prayer is about a conversation with our loving God—not about wearing him down to get what we want.
There's so much to want—healed bodies, restored relationships, changed circumstances. But asking, seeking, and knocking aren't secret formulas for getting what we want from God; they're ways to get more of God. As I listen to God speak to me through his Word, he gives me more of himself in fuller, newer ways. Then, if healing doesn't come, if the relationship remains broken, or if the pressures increase, I have the opportunity to discover for myself he is enough. His presence is enough. His purpose is enough.
If you truly want to move God's heart, put aside secret-formula prayer and instead begin to practice prayer that seeks the Giver more than the gifts.
Prayer is changing me from someone who knew a lot about God into someone who's experiencing God in deep, though sometimes difficult, ways.
Superficial Prayer vs. Significant Prayer
Sometimes I catch myself "chatting" with God, limiting my prayers to superficial things and surface issues, never getting to the heart of the matter. And I've noticed that when others offer prayer requests, they're rarely about spiritual needs. We ask God to heal physical ailments, provide safe travel, and to "be with us."
Of course God cares about these things. But prayer is spiritual work toward a spiritual end. God wants to rub off our rough edges and clean up our character. So why do we settle for talking to him only about the superficial stuff? When our prayers move from the superficial to the significant, we invite God to do no less than a deep, transforming, igniting work in our life and in the lives of those for whom we're praying.
I've often found myself slipping into superficial mode in my prayers for Matt—asking God to keep him safe or to bless his day at school. But I really don't want to settle for those things. So my prayers have moved from the superficial to the significant. I'm asking God to shape Matt's character—even if it requires some struggle. I'm begging the Holy Spirit to ignite in Matt a passion for holiness and a love for God's Word. These are things that really matter. This is what significant prayer is all about.
Showy Prayer vs. Secret Prayer
Several years ago, at a friend's wedding, a college friend described me to her other friends as "a prayer warrior." Her comment surprised me because I knew it wasn't true. I guess I'd made a great impression with my public prayers at our weekly Bible study group in college. But the truth was, there wasn't much private prayer going on in my life.
If I'm not careful, I still can make prayer all about impressing others with my pseudo-spirituality. That's "showy prayer"—prayer that's more for others' ears than for God's. Jesus warned against this: "When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the doors and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you" (Matthew 6:5-6).
Showy prayer uses put-on voices, lofty words, and spiritual-sounding phrases; simple prayer is authentic and humble. I can perform public prayers or make claims of private prayer, and settle for the applause of people; or I can go to a secret place, shut the door, and commune with God. It's in that secret place with him you and I find our most blessed reward—not impressing others, but cultivating true intimacy with him.
Insistent Prayer vs. Submissive Prayer
Nothing's taught me more about prayer than Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. According to Hebrews 5:7-8, "during the days of Jesus' life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered."
This moves me, because I know what it's like to offer prayers with loud cries and tears, to come before God with a broken heart and a desperate need. Several years ago, physicians told my husband and me that because of a rare metabolic disorder, our newborn daughter, Hope, would live for only two or three months.
Time seemed to be slipping away so quickly when one day, as I rocked Hope in the nursery we'd prepared for her—tears spilling down my face—I thought, I'll ask God to give Hope more time. It seemed such a modest prayer; I'd already surrendered any insistence God heal her completely. But even as that prayer formed in my mind, I sensed God calling me to submit to his perfect timing. So my prayer instead became, Give me strength to make the most of every day you give me with Hope. Show me how to rest in your plan for her life and mine.
In Hope's life and death, I learned what it is to pray to a God who has the power to make another way … but chooses not to. It helps to know Jesus understands what this feels like. Like Jesus, I've wrestled with God's plan for my life even as I've sought to submit to it. But Jesus shows me how to obey when God's answer to my sincere, reverent prayer is "no." I also see Jesus' example of obedience.
I've learned that submissive prayer is prayer that welcomes God to work in and through my suffering rather than begs him to take it away. It's thanking God for what he gives me rather than resenting him for what I lose. Submissive prayer is changing me from someone who knew a lot about God into someone who's experiencing God in deep, though sometimes difficult, ways.
Too often I still find myself merely going through the motions of prayer, but I want to pray in a way that's authentic, sincere, and effective. I'm learning to go to my heavenly Father in the way I want my son to come to me. I want to hear what Matt wants and needs. I want to respond. I want to be active in his life, doing what I know is best for him.
Our heavenly Father's no different. He has no need for a show or secret formulas, and he's not interested in keeping things superficial. He loves it when we come to him—and he simply wants to talk with us.
Nancy Guthrie is the author of Holding On to Hope: A Pathway Through Suffering to the Heart of God and The One Year Book of Hope (both Tyndale).
Copyright © 2006 by the author or Christianity Today International/Today's Christian Woman magazine.
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