Patience Has its Way

In his novel, As It Is In Heaven, the Irish writer Niall Williams writes: “There are only three great puzzles in the world, the puzzle of love, the puzzle of death and between each of these, and part of them both is the puzzle of God. God is the greatest puzzle of all.” I have been perplexed by them all! But I agree with Williams: God is the greatest puzzle, especially when we are waiting for him. We are exhorted by the Scriptures—the great revealer of God—to seek the Creator of all things. We are assured that if we seek him with all our heart we shall find him because “he is not far from any one of us” (Acts 17:27). However, as any seasoned follower of God knows, it is not that simple because having found God, we are then exhorted to wait for him—in fact, to wait patiently for him. It seems that while many things could be said about our Father, one thing needs to be understood: God responds within his own rhythms, in his own way, and within his own time. Time belongs to him. Waiting is upon his terms.

How can we grow in our understanding of this tension, especially this mystery of the delayed divine response? James, the brother of Jesus, advises us to be patiently observant. He says: “consider the life of a farmer who plants a seed and then waits for the rain” (see Jas. 5:7–8). Not just any rain but the autumn and spring rains—that is, the seasonal rains that are part of the providential rhythm of creation. This agrarian example teaches us a valuable lesson of how we are to live in God’s world. We are to cooperate with the divine seasons. The philosopher in Ecclesiastes advises us: “there is a time and a season for every activity under heaven … a time to plant and a time to uproot” (Eccl 3:1-2). It’s a foolish person who sows seeds in the heat of a dry summer, for example. However, the philosopher is speaking about more than the weather. The sage is also encouraging us to understand the “times and the seasons” of our own lives. It is by embracing the seasons, both literal and metaphorical, that we can sense the divine rhythms and timings, his ebbs and his flows.

Many years ago, as young Christians, my wife Jeannie and I felt the prompting of the Spirit to purchase some land. This was a serious departure from the peripatetic lifestyle I had pursued for many years previous. From a city musician and dishwasher, I turned overnight into a farmer of livestock. A new season! That leading was an adventure in God that included an abrupt baptism into a rural lifestyle. Early mornings, seven days a week, I learned to milk cows, grow grass, and respect the weather—a dramatic contrast to the rhythms of the city. However, while the daily farming routine fufilled certain dreams, others remained unfulfilled, which were thwarted by the demands of the cowshed. There lingered prophetic imaginings and hopes that spoke of activities beyond the farm. These dreams heralded other pursuits. I began to yearn for this new season that I sensed was yet to come.  In the early morning hours, during urine-soaked sessions in the herringbone pit, I would cry out to God, and, echoing the Psalmist, would utter, “How long, Lord”? Silence. Again: “How long, Lord”? Silence! There were many times when I thought to sell the cows in order to facilitate the dreams, but Jeannie’s wisdom and the restraint of the Spirit persuaded me to wait—not always patiently.

However, God saw the desires of my heart and heard the cries from the “pit,” and, eventually, a unique opportunity arose, and we converted the farm into a kiwifruit orchard. The new season had arrived and, with it, new opportunities to fulfull some of the other desires within my heart. In retrospect, I now understand that an earlier exit from the cowshed would not have yielded the same opportunities. My attempts to “help” God achieve his purposes and “create” my own new season would have brought forth a different outcome. But patience had its way, and new shoots and opportunities emerged. More importantly, my sense of God’s unwavering, gracious presence was strengthened.

Nevertheless, I understand that not all desires and requests to God are fulfilled in the now. Patience is not a formula, a strategy that will necessarily achieve the hoped-for outcome, regardless of how just or desirable. Remember, God is the greatest mystery of all. There remains, for example, God’s final restoration of all things. The Psalmist Asaph, in the midst of his outpourings during an existential crisis, questioned the reality of the divine goodness. In his experience, the unrighteous were prospering and the pure in heart were suffering. It was deeply troubling to him until, finally, “I came into the presence of God and understood …” (Ps 73:17). Some issues are not resolved this side of eternity. Sometimes, our hopes will only be fulfilled within the fulness of God’s purposes for heaven and earth. Patience is indeed required.

What might our response look like in the midst of this unknowing and this waiting? Patience is active. It might even involve a kind of prayerful impatience, which, counterintuitively, can be an activity within patient waiting. Again, I turn to the Psalmist. Te Paipera Tapu, the Māori Bible, says it bluntly: “Kia hohoro e te Atua”—that is: “Hurry up God; come quickly!” Our waiting prayer is not the dispassionate utterance of a stoical heart but is sometimes the raw demand of an anxious believer. Eventually, however, if we stay the course, even this impatience will become patience, a fruit of the Spirit, the harvest of faithful perseverance in times of trial and seasons of silence. For although God is the greatest mystery of all, he remains a knowable and known presence to those who patiently wait for him. Selah!

(Image: by Leon Ephraïm, CC Zero)