Waiting is Hard
JEFF EARLESON
Waiting is hard. Our three-year-old is at that magical age where if she asks about doing something, and the answer is "later" or "not yet" or "in a little bit," she immediately asks, "Now can we?" "How about now?" "I have a good idea, what if we do it now!" And then again. And again. I admire her persistence. Then, usually when I explain that we might need to wait for more than one second, she sighs and falls into a literal and figurative heap of hopelessness. "Hope"-lessness because she doesn't believe the things that she wants will happen — at least not anytime soon.
When it comes to reactions to waiting, the apple must not have fallen very far from the tree because I'm exactly the same. Sure, I'm usually able to keep it together for the small things and can handle at least a few minutes of waiting, but when it comes to waiting on bigger things in life or waiting on God to set all things to right? It can feel hopeless, and I can feel helpless in the waiting. I (usually) don't throw myself on the floor, but that's often how I feel.
I think it's good to acknowledge those feelings, not dismiss them, and maybe even spend some time sitting (or even actually laying on the floor) with those tough emotions. And then, I think we should try to find hope in the waiting.
When we look back at the stories in the Bible, it's filled with stories of having hope while waiting. Abraham and Sarah waited, wrestling with hope for a child. The enslaved Israelites waited, hoping for someone to free them from Egypt. The Israelites waited hopefully as a nation — for a return from exile, an end to an occupation, or for a rebuilding of the Temple. When God sends Christ, the Isrealites are waiting, hopeful again. In each story, God’s people believe that the thing they yearned for might possibly happen.
It's easy to write this, but I think in many ways, this is often the hardest part of our faith journey — at least it is for me. Finding hope as we wait is tough and can feel like trying to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps. For me, it's helpful to notice where and on whom I'm focusing my attention. It's easy to get pulled into a polarizing news cycle with endless things to be justifiably angry, discouraged, and hopeless about. The two ways I can usually find my way back to hope are trying to notice God and finding God embodied in people trying to bear God's image.
For me, noticing God comes most naturally (pun intended) in Creation. Spending time outside, even in the bitter cold, helps me to connect with God and then start to feel able to hope again. Maybe for you in this season, it's something else: Christmas baking, nativity sets, coffee, contemplative prayer, or reading the stories of God's people in the Bible. Noticing people who are trying to bear God's image is a bit easier. In our community, there are so many people who are doing incredible things as they try their best to bring the Kingdom of God here. I'm sure there are good people in other communities, but I'm continually amazed and inspired by the people of Imago Dei as they try to help bring the Kingdom of God more fully to today.
Though, I don't think it ends with finding hope for ourselves in waiting. As I look back through the messages God had for people as they waited hopefully, I think it was to not just have hope, but to be Hope for others: Hope for the enemy in Jonah, Hope for those without justice in Amos, Hope for all people from Jesus.
When I look at the text for this week of Advent, Psalm 72, it seems to me that it's looking to the next king, Solomon, and also the future King — Jesus. David is asking for good things and increased authority for the next King, and the reason is because this King will use their ability to be Hope for those who need it.
For he delivers the needy when he calls,
the poor and him who has no helper.
He has pity on the weak and the needy,
and saves the lives of the needy.
From oppression and violence he redeems their life,
and precious is their blood in his sight.
If we can find a way to find hope through God and the people around us, then I think we can try to use the capabilities and resources we have to embody hope for others. Being hope can take some different forms. It’s partnering with or supporting causes that address the big systemic issues our world faces today, giving those facing such issues some hope in their waiting. In our own community, LULA is helping give hope to those experiencing homelessness, or Surround to those in the foster care system. It means using the spaces where we have some abundance to pour out and be that hope to others. It looks like being a light that brings hope to those directly around us — by listening to someone talk through their struggles, being patient and gracious with someone we disagree with, acting in a way that shows the humanity and dignity in a person who isn't usually treated with dignity, or maybe even just not rolling your eyes too hard at your three-year-old moping on the floor again.
I believe it also means that in our community, we encourage each other toward hope. When we live out being a hope to others together, we remind each other of what that hope does, and what that hope means, for those who need it most.
Jeff is married to the amazing Holly and has an adorable daughter Kara and son Eric. During the daytime he helps large trucks drive themselves and serves on the worship team playing piano and bass guitar. He fits most bass player stereotypes by preferring to blend in with the scenery but can be coaxed into speaking with good coffee, good beer, or good conversation.