Why does waiting feel so like grief?
Anger, despair, bargaining, denial…positive self-talk, self-loathing…pain, numbness, no movement…except back around to anger.
I’m not talking about being still. I’m talking about waiting. Waiting on a promise from the Lord. If I trust Him, if I believe He is who He says He is, shouldn’t I be rejoicing? But I’m not. I am pacing the floor of my mind wondering what’s taking so long.
When Cadence was turning three, Matthew asked her what she wanted to do for her party. If you know my husband, you will know that he is the king of good times and parties and his little girl’s heart. We affectionately call him “Daddy Fun Times” at our house.
Anyway, Cadence exclaimed, “A bouncy house!!!” Matthew, King of yes and amen for his little princess, determined it would be so. You should have seen her. She was elated! For weeks she ran around the house squealing about all the things she would do at her party in her bouncy house. She told everyone she met that she was having a bouncy house at her party. She was pumped!
I have shamed myself for not feeling the same in my waiting. But I’m not turning three. I’m turning thirty-seven, and I’m jaded and aware of this world. I’m not an innocent. I’m Michelle. I’ve grieved the loss of my ideal over and over.
This is what waiting with Him looks like today. “God, I’m disappointed in You.”
Yes, I said it, and you know what? He can take it. He can take me as I am in this moment and change my heart.
Why does waiting feel so like grief? I guess it’s because my idea of life needs to be put to death. Again.