Waiting Is Not Just About Me

The LORD's anger burned against Israel and he made them wander in the desert forty years, until the whole generation of those who had done evil in his sight was gone. (Numbers 32:13)

Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. (Romans 12:4-5)

As a product of American culture, it is so easy to think that it is all about me. Particularly during times when God seems slow to act, or does not seem to be “meeting my needs” (as defined by me, of course), it is easy to start questioning and even complaining.

This weekend marks the one-year anniversary of my departure (and Julie’s) from the Eastside staff. And as of June 30, I’ve also wrapped up my ministry with Stadia. Needless to say, I’m eager to find another ministry. I do not like being unemployed. I cannot wait to feel productive in Kingdom service again. And from a purely practical standpoint, the financial reserves we are living on will not last forever, so we need to generate income. But the ministry search has been unfolding at an agonizingly slow pace.

I find myself asking, “Why me, Lord? Am I doing something wrong? Is there some unlearned lesson I still need to embrace?”

Now it’s true that waiting on the Lord always brings additional lessons, so almost every week I find that there is some new insight I can personally glean from this protracted journey. [The same is true for Julie. We are convinced that the vision for a women’s ministry center (described in the July 16 post titled “A God Sized Dream”) would not have come about, except that she was waiting…and listening…and seeking God.]

But the biggest lesson I have learned in recent weeks is that the reason for waiting often has nothing to do – at least directly – with me. As I ponder the verses written at the top of this post, I am reminded of just how interconnected we are with other people in the Kingdom of God.

The quote from Numbers in the Old Testament tells me that Israel disobeyed God and was forced to wander in the wilderness for 40 years. But was every man, woman, and child in that nation equally guilty? I seriously doubt it. In fact, we know that at least two men – Caleb and Joshua - were completely blameless and were exonerated by God Himself. Yet these two innocent men wandered…and waited…right along with the rest of their countrymen. And what about the children who were born during these years? They were completely innocent, yet many of these people grew up and spent their formative years participating in a season of waiting. Why? Because they were part of a community, and their lives were inextricably linked to the lives of others.

In other words: they were waiting…not because of something they did, but because of a season the community needed to experience.

The quote from Romans in the New Testament categorically states that I, as a believer, belong to other believers. Obviously, this is not a statement of “ownership”; it is a statement about the commitment and accountability required for meaningful community.

In many ways, this is a very un-American viewpoint, because I have been taught to prize my independence and my individuality to a fault. Independence is not necessarily a bad thing, but it must go hand-in-hand with interdependence and dependence. All of these qualities are vital, and must be held in balance (and in tension) with each other, for me to participate in community in a healthy way.

For example, even in the church, we speak (too much, in my view) of someone’s “personal relationship with Jesus.” This is true, but only in a very limited sense, because my personal relationship with the Lord intertwines my life with a faith community. A community that needs me to use my gifts and talents. A community whose gifts and talents I need. A community where we all are encouraged to live out mutual submission and encouragement and accountability. A community, in other words, where my season of “waiting” does not take place in isolation.

So I am realizing (belatedly) that my waiting is not just about me.

When our oldest daughter, Karina, moved to Portland last fall, it meant that she was no longer around to help with the wedding planning. She did what she could, but most of the planning fell upon Julie and me. If we had been working…rather than waiting…it would have been far more difficult to handle some of the unanticipated “bumps in the road” that took place in the weeks leading up to the wedding.

Our son, Matthew, is facing some major life decisions. In December, he will graduate from college. He also is in a very serious relationship with a wonderful young woman. Needless to say, he has profound questions about how the next few years of his life may unfold. Because he is going to school full-time, and working multiple jobs to meet his financial obligations, his hours are unpredictable and frenetic. Several times in recent days he has come home late at night, full of questions and eager to talk. Three nights in a row, we stayed up until 2:00 am. as I listened and responded. If I was working (and had to get up in the morning)…rather than waiting…I simply could not have been available like this to my son.

Because we have not been working, Julie and I have developed some new relationships that have enlarged our sense of community. We have had the time to meet with, pray with, and even serve our new friends. These things would not have taken place…apart from this season of waiting.

I’m even learning to see the slow job search through the richer lens of community, rather than through the selfish lens of “I want a job.” The number of open pulpits at churches is dramatically down this year because of the recession. Some pastors who had planned to retire cannot do so, because their retirement funds have evaporated. Some pastors who want to leave their established churches and plant a new church are electing not to do so until the economy recovers. Some churches have lost their lead pastor, and are choosing not to fill the position because giving at their church has declined. All of this affects me personally, because each of these situations represents a potential opportunity that will not come about. But these pastors are my colleagues; these churches are filled with my brothers and sisters in Christ. Rather than resent how their hardships may adversely (though unknowingly) impact me, I instead should pray for them…and trust that God will care for me in His time.

So as I try to accept God’s seeming slowness to bring about an end to this season of waiting, I’m learning…slowly…to respond in new and different ways. Instead of asking, “Why me, Lord?”, I’m trying to discern who I can encourage, who I can serve, and who in my circle of influence might actually benefit from this season when I am waiting.

- Bruce