Naive

Sometimes hope is naive.  And sometimes it is more what my dear friend calls "cynical".

Take my experience with Isaiah 40:31, for example.  The Bible verse says this: "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint."  My AWANA book made me learn it, several times.  I think I also had to know it for a Bible study around when I was 18.

So naturally when I was a senior in high school and my youth pastor instructed us each to write our favorite Bible verse on a brick that would become some sort of altar/wailing wall/prayer decor thing in our youth room, I picked that one.  (That and Psalm 37:4.)  At the time, I felt like I was waiting.  Which is to say, I felt impatient.  Looking back, I'd have to guess a lot of high school seniors feel that way.  But I took hope in God's very considerate reward program for wait-ers.  Waiting might not be what I wanted to do, but it was what God wanted, as long as He deemed necessary, and He made it worth it.

I didn't really want feathery wings, and I'm not much of a runner.  But I was sure there was inspiring poetic depth to the verse.  The whole chapter is pretty inspiring.  Turns out it is much more about God than about me.

It also turns out the promise is true.  Only, it isn't a reward.  It's a means to the waiting.  A God-Himself-is-worth-it, never-mind-rewards message.  On the days when I wanted to throw a tantrum and tell God that I didn't have what it took to keep waiting (like I'd miraculously been able to wait the past bazillion months of my short life), I had that nagging verse memorized to silence my lies.  I did have what it took: I had God, the God who bears His faithful (what a word) up on wings, who strengthens those who come to the end of their own abilities (however vigorous at the outset).

Without the encouragement from such verses, I might have quit.  I might have gone after what I thought were good things, my own way.  I might have chased bad things.  Over the years, I've grieved to see many people I once knew make that choice, to please themselves.  They decided they'd tried waiting for long enough.  (The nature of waiting on God is that we have to keep on waiting until He does something.  He's the boss, not me.  I don't get to give Him an ultimatum about how much longer I'm willing to give Him a chance to come through.)  I think it sort of wastes the waiting they did attempt, but maybe not.  Maybe God can redeem that time if they turn back to Him.  All I know is that if I were to quit now, I'd have to be convinced that God can't or doesn't want to do good.  If I ever quit hoping, I'm telling you right now, pray hard and come yell at me and watch me closely; my whole world will be crumbling.  By God's grace, that will never happen.

It is grace, I think, that Isaiah was writing about.  It is a certain subset of grace that I am gaining through the long-waiting.  I have experienced seasons where I stumbled, weary, and cried out to God with a pitiful whimper.  I found myself with an incredible peace.  I had so much peace I had to do deep self-examination to see if I still desired things, still felt an eagerness and even impatience for things.  In those moments I have most tasted the love of God, felt His delight in me.

It's been beautiful, in that raw, real way that 18 year old's don't talk about and don't really like to face.  I've been learning faith.  Learning that God loves me in this way.  He doesn't love everyone this way, but it is good, and I choose not to be ashamed of it.  I choose to remember that I want God and His gifts, and if He isn't giving, I don't want the present.  I am learning (slowly still... why does time always seem to come into it?) to be excited because whatever happens tomorrow, God will be active in it.  God.  The everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, who - unlike me - does not grow weary.  That God will be busy in my life.

But it is hard.  Waiting is hard.  I have been waiting and hoping for a long time.  And I still can't quite grasp why God uses time.  He is the God of "let there be light" (and there was light), so I know He can do it.  But He chooses - and this is a hint that it is something significant, that He wants to do it this way - to form things, like He formed Adam of the dust of the ground.

So.  I wouldn't quite call it cynical, what I said to my 9 year old friend this morning.  Sobering?  She held up a plaque with Isaiah 40:31 printed on it, and said she liked it.  I told her to be careful.  If your favorite verse is about waiting, God might teach you about waiting.  Just a friendly little warning.  She looked a little confused, my young friend, and then said something about liking the picture of the eagle flying above the mountain.  Oh...  Um.  Well.  Eagles are cool.  (I actually really love eagles.)

If you delight in promises about God's faithfulness to those who hope in Him, you might get a chance to demonstrate it.  And it will be good.  But not easy.  Be ready.