We wait in line.
Wanting and hoping we will be next. Hoping He will see us, hear us, and give us some attention.
We have heard about what He has done for some who were whipsawed, betrayed, and wrecked. He rescued, held, comforted, fed, clothed; even remedied their wounds.
WE say: “I do believe. I do have faith. He can do it...but He probably won’t.”
Even still, we make sure we are appropriately dressed and standing tall. We compete with the rest of those waiting. We are nervously anticipating for Him to glance our way…But He probably won’t.
We try hard not to shrink into invisible, ordinary, and disappointed. So we back up onto the sidelines letting others pass.
We long to have a private moment with God to tell Him all that has been done to us. We quietly pick at our scabs and wonder if we matter.
We feather the edges of a small drawing in our pocket, shoved deep, with tattered corners that begin to pill. And it is an outline of a pencil-drawn house. A box. A reminder.
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
– C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
So we stand in line a little longer. Perseverance builds character character builds hope.