The True Purpose of Waiting

My sister recently sent me a poem by John Milton entitled, On His Blindness. I’m normally not a big fan of 17th century poetry so as I was reading it nothing much was really sinking in. I was having a hard time getting past the archaic phrasing and odd use of certain words. English has evolved to be so much more understandable in our day (please see the humor here). I struggled through the poem until I came to the last line. The last line forced me to go back and re-read and re-think each word and phrase that Milton was using. Before telling what that last line was let me try and summarize what my sadly underdeveloped poetic mind thinks he is saying.

Milton was a gifted poet. He had written the classic Paradise Lost. He was a deeply devout Christian who believed that his poetry was a gift from God and he had a responsibility to use this gift for Him. But in the prime of his life Milton became blind. This poem speaks of his struggle in feeling like he was no longer able to use his gift as God had intended (“And that one talent which is death to hide, lodged with me useless”). He asks God why He would give him a gift and expect him to use it but then withhold the means to do so (“Doth God exact day labor, light denied?”). He comes to the conclusion that ultimately “God doth not need either mans work or his own gifts”. He says that there are several ways to serve the Lord. Some serve Him by crossing “land and ocean without rest”. They are seemingly tireless in their work for Him. But this is not the only way to serve the Lord. In his last line Milton says, “THEY ALSO SERVE WHO ONLY STAND AND WAIT.”

Wow! That totally alters my perspective on waiting. Normally we wait for something or someone and we are finished waiting when that something happens or that someone comes. The only purpose in our waiting is for the fulfillment of something. Have you ever said, “I waited all that time for nothing”, meaning the thing that you were waiting for did not happen so there was no purpose in the waiting. It was a waste of time.

In this season of my life I am in a time of waiting. I am waiting for health to be restored. I am waiting for the next season of ministry to be revealed. I am waiting for a renewed sense of purpose. I am waiting for another opportunity to serve the Lord using the gifts and talents He has given to me. In my mind I am thinking, “My waiting will be worthwhile when all of these things have happened”. I am waiting for something. Milton has shown me that this is a faulty way to view my time of waiting. Not everyone can serve the Lord tirelessly across land and oceans. Sometimes, “they also serve who only stand and wait”.

There is a purpose in the waiting, and the purpose is not the fulfillment of that which we are waiting for, something out there, in the future. We can serve Him even while we stand and wait. Even while our hearts are breaking at not being able to do what we used to, or what we want to; even when confusion and fear consume our soul and distort our vision; even when our desires for personal fulfillment are frustrated; even then, “they also serve who only stand and wait.” It's not just that we can serve Him while we stand and wait. In other words, we may not be able to do everything but we can at least do something. It's not that at all. It's that our standing and waiting IS a way of serving Him.

Isaiah 30:18 says, “Blessed are all who wait for the Lord”. Waiting for the Lord (not waiting for something to happen but waiting for Him) is really the highest form of service to the Lord. So for all who, along with me, occasionally find themselves standing and waiting, take heart. Your opportunity for serving the Lord has never been closer.

Link to full text of John Milton’s poem
http://www.bartleby.com/101/318.html

Extraordinarily Ordinary

I have had a book on my shelf forever (I inherited it from my father) called, Extraordinary Living for Ordinary Men, by Samuel Shoemaker. It’s a book about Christian living but it’s the title that has always intrigued me. When I think of the word extraordinary I think of a great adventure, an heroic act, or some amazing talent. The word sounds to me like it should be reserved for people like Teddy Roosevelt or Alexander the Great or Mother Teresa. My life doesn’t feel extraordinary. Most of the time it just feels, well normal, swinging back and forth between boring and dull.

But I do have to admit that periodically it has been punctuated with some things that I guess could be described as extraordinary. Standing at the altar with the most beautiful woman in the world; holding my daughters seconds after they were born; performing a wedding in a hot air balloon; pastoring a church that ended up pastoring me; feeling the strength and power of God when I had neither. These have been pretty extraordinary experiences that have marked my ordinary life.

I think that life shouldn't be looked at as extraordinary or ordinary as if it can be one or the other. I think that life is a combination of both of these. We need each one to define the other. We know when something is extraordinary because we know what ordinary feels like. And things often seem ordinary only when compared to some extraordinary event or ideal.

When I think of Christmas I think of both of these words together. It certainly was extraordinary. Angels singing in the sky, a teenage virgin giving birth, wise men finding a little obscure home in Bethlehem simply by following a star (have you ever tried to follow a star?). But it was also profoundly ordinary. A stable, a donkey, a poor young couple, taxes. The town of Bethlehem didn’t even know what was happening. It was ordinary. But the miracle of Christmas, the miracle of the Incarnation (God with us), is what happened when the truly extraordinary comes into contact with the truly ordinary. When heaven touches earth. When angels sing to humans. When God becomes a man. When thousands of years of prophecy are fulfilled in one single, ordinary night.

What happens when the ordinary comes into contact with the extraordinary? Life! Our life. And when the extraordinary mixes in with the ordinary it’s sometimes hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. Ordinary things begin to take on extraordinary qualities. We begin to see that our sometimes dull and boring lives are really just a reflection of something much greater. In the ordinariness of human life God sent an extraordinary gift. Jesus was born into the mundane, business as usual, life of a small insignificant village. Most of them never realized that in the midst of their ordinary lives something truly extraordinary was happening.

God help us not to make the same mistake.

A Harvest Worth Waiting For

OK, today I was just reading through part of the book of Hebrews, minding my own business, when out of nowhere this passage hits me in the face. “Endure hardship as discipline” (Hebrews 12:7). I’ve seen that verse before and it left me alone but today, for some reason, I get slapped in the face. I probably should have seen it coming. The whole hardship thing has been a very present reality for me lately. “Endure hardship as discipline”.

Well first of all, it rubs me the wrong way that I have to “endure” hardship. “Endure” sounds to me like it’s going to last for awhile and be rather unpleasant. I can “put up with” something but to “endure” sounds like I better hunker down ‘cause it’s going to be a long and bumpy ride. I would much rather put up with hardship than endure it.

Secondly, why do I have to endure it as discipline? Discipline sounds like either punishment or a really painful exercise routine. Neither of which I am very fond of. But there it is: “Endure hardship as discipline.” It does offer some comfort to read on (it’s usually dangerous not to). “God is treating you as sons.” Knowing that God is responding to me as a dearly loved child helps me understand that He is not random or haphazard in how He treats me. He is not treating me as a stranger. He loves me as a son. Discipline then is not some kind of punishment or painful exercise, it is a form of guidance. It is a way that God takes us from one place to a better place. “God disciplines us for our good that we may share in His holiness” (v. 10). And this process of discipline produces in us “a harvest of righteousness and peace” (v.11).

Now, harvest is a word I can enjoy. Unlike 'endure' and 'hardship' and 'discipline' the word 'harvest' sets well with me. It is full of hope and fulfillment and satisfaction. Harvest is often used in Scripture to speak of joy. But harvest comes as the result of a lot of hard work, sometimes even pain and heartache. When I pick up an ear of corn and eat it I just think about how good it tastes. When a farmer picks up an ear of corn his thoughts go back, sometimes years, to the process of preparing the land, planting the seed, watering the field, picking the ears, getting them to market. I don’t think of those things because I haven’t participated in the whole ‘discipline’ process of getting to harvest.

I wonder if a farmer enjoys eating corn more than I do. I’ll have to ask one someday. I do know that when my harvest of righteousness and peace comes there is no one who is going to enjoy it more than me. In the meantime, I guess I’ll just have to learn how to enjoy words like ‘endure’ and ‘hardship’ and ‘discipline’, because that’s the only way to get to the good stuff!