When I read the road sign announcing “Construction for the next 50 miles,” I groaned. Really? Construction had already been going on for the past three years and now it would be for the foreseeable future—up to three more years! Every day since, as I drive this stretch of pavement under repair, I wonder if it will ever be finished. Deep down I know it will be, yet when I’m stopped in painfully slow traffic, it’s hard to believe the interstate will ever be free of orange barrels and single lanes.
Are we there yet?” This timeless question could either trigger a benevolent smile or produce a scowl on the face of a harassed and patience-worn parent. Like a small child, we want what we want, and we want it now. I can only imagine how Noah felt each time he peered hopefully out of the ark, only to see the dove he’d sent to find dry land returning to the vessel. Yet another seven days . . .
There’s a big, green button at the paint counter of my local hardware store. When you press it, an assistant is supposed to serve you within 60 seconds. If they’re late, you get a discount on your paint.
A few years ago, I drove to the Grand Canyon in the US. As we marveled at the natural beauty before us, we had to strain our eyes to see the little ribbon of water winding its way through the bottom of the massive canyon, one of the tributaries of the Colorado River. It was that tributary, some believe, that helped to patiently carve and make manifest the immense and majestic marvel we now viewed—the likes of which no human has ever been able to create!
Typically, I merely skim my Facebook feed. But today I found myself taking time to reflect on a friend’s post that read: “Our soul waits for the Lord; He is our help and our shield.” I know what it means to wait for a phone call, to wait in line, to wait for an answer from a friend or colleague. But it’s been a long time since I’ve grappled with what it means for my soul to wait for the Lord.
In November 2014, police found a 13-year-old boy who had been missing for 4 years. The heart- wrenching story grew even more shocking when police revealed that the boy’s father and stepmother had the boy all the time—hidden behind a fake wall in their house during most hours of each day. For 4 long years the boy waited to be found, waited to be reunited with his mother.
A friend and I once did an 8-day walk in the north of England. Much of our second day’s walk was done in view of Dunstanburgh Castle, a giant 14th-century fort now in ruins. The castle was built by Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, with a purpose: to declare Thomas’ wealth and glory. In many ways he succeeded. Seven centuries later, the castle keeps Thomas’ name alive. But in the most important sense he failed. A sign in front of the castle remembers Thomas as an “arrogant and unpopular” man.
In C. S. Lewis’ The Horse and His Boy (from the Chronicles of Narnia series), Shasta embarked on a long journey from his village to escape being sold as a slave. As he traveled, he became aware of something following him:
Attempting a quadruple toe loop, Olympic skater Jeremy Abbott swiveled into the air and fell. He careened into the rink’s wall and lay clutching his side. Amazingly, Jeremy then stood up and resumed skating. The rest of his routine included two extremely difficult, yet well-executed maneuvers. In the end, his perseverance after a serious mistake won the crowd’s heart.
One of our favorite family vacation sites is a beautiful beach community located in an adjoining state. We like to go there during the “off season” when few tourists are around. Though the ocean water is a little chilly, we enjoy swimming in an indoor pool. Also, there’s a lazy river that surrounds the pool and holds a special appeal for our kids. They’ve tried to swim against its current over the years, only to be carried in the opposite direction.
As my wife tried to get home from visiting our daughter over the holidays, bad weather shut down numerous flights. After 2 days, she had a fistful of boarding passes for planes that couldn’t leave the ground, and she joined thousands of weary travelers scrambling for places to stay.