Day 8: Don’t Rush through the Waiting
I’m spending each day here in the month of October writing about finding beauty in the everyday mess. Before you think I’m an expert on this topic, let me confess: I’ve likely already lost my temper, prayed that I could have a solo vacation, and held back frustrated tears this morning. I’m far from having this mastered. I’m writing here transparently so that you and I might grow in seeking His daily extravagant beauty. So pull up a chair and get ready to dive into the mess with me, knowing that somewhere in this mess is a beauty that only God can craft.
There’s sand all over his legs and he flails as I carry him over the soft sand of the dunes.
He doesn’t want to leave the sand, the waves, or the fun he’s had rolling in the tide pool.
A quarter mile back to the campsite is a long walk with a flailing toddler on your hip so I set him down on the first boardwalk. He wails. Undeterred, I walk on ahead.
“Look!” I say excitedly. He stops crying and considers what I could be pointing at. “Look,” I say again and he toddles forward.
We make it a game, taking turns finding a new treasure. We discover water, a dragonfly, a rough tree, and a smooth one on our walk. He giggles delight when a second dragonfly allows him to touch it.
A quarter mile later and I doubt Sedryn remembers the struggle at the dunes.
I can be just like my son during seasons of transitions. Seasons I might label as waiting. I can look longingly over my shoulder at the fun season I just left and trudge a slow quarter mile to the next coveted season. That quarter mile could be waiting or a trial or a season of discipline or even another needed object gone missing from my house.
In my haste to get to the next thing or in my mourning over loosing the last season, I ignore the Holy Spirit’s tug.
“Look! Taste and see that the Lord is good.”
Touch the dragonflies, friends, giggle delight over what the Lord has made –> even when you feel like you’re just trudging on to the next season.