Waiting Isn't Curable.
It's constant.
Floor Time.
My roommate and I have our best conversations on the floor. It typically begins after a long day, when one of us collapses to the ground between our two perfectly good couches and waits for the other to notice. Upon awareness, the remaining vertical roommate will assume an adjacent position and face bestie, staring through the open space beneath our coffee table.
Then, we talk about how the world works. We discuss everything from hobbies to theology; our days to our plans; our struggles to our victories. We trace the patterns of our existence on the carpet and solve each other’s first-world problems, shallow or deep as they may be. While moving apartments last week, we had our final “floor time” in the unit we’ve had for three years. This move has been the cherry-on-top of a season of change for both of us. Naturally, growth was the conversation topic.
“The twenties are weird, because so much change occurs, yet it still feels like I’m going nowhere.”
Solid opening line. The symbolism added by our impending move? Immaculate. I knew this conversation was going to be a good one.
“This phase of life really is like a layover. We’re moving through the checkpoints to get to our final destination, but we haven’t even left the ground yet.”
I’ve previously used this metaphor to describe the feeling of seeing where one is headed but not yet able to go. The plane and time have not yet arrived, and all one can do is prepare for the flight and find the nearest coffee shop.
What are we waiting for??
In this sense, young adulthood can feel like a long waiting season. Waiting for the degree, the job, the person, the time…can be overwhelming. As I reflect on my life, however, I cannot remember when waiting has been absent. In high school, I was waiting for college; in college, I was waiting for seminary; now in seminary, I am waiting for my full-time career. Waiting isn’t something that can be cured, because there is always a new phase of life around the corner. As we go through life and seasons pass, we are reminded that this earth is ever fleeting. The thing we ultimately await is God’s presence—permanent and eternal.
One could argue that waiting is a Biblical theme. As God’s redemptive plan unfolds, characters are completely dependent on His timing through the wilderness, barrenness, and silence. Yet, He faithfully uses these times to shape His people according to His kingdom image, growing their faith and discipline for a larger purpose.
God intentionally chose the wilderness as the place to refine Israel into His kingdom nation before they entered the promised land. Here, they were away from the idols that previously held them captive, and they were a blank slate to be reshaped by covenant. While they wandered, God taught them the law and consistently revealed His epic presence. He dwelled among them and led them through day and night.
Ultimately, every earthly hope indicates our desire for Christ’s presence. Our longings for work, family, and stability reflect the life we seek in heaven, where we will fully participate in God’s perfect design. We need kingdom, and our souls know it. We need the fullness of life experienced when Christ is the provider, sustainer, and receiver of every action we do and interaction we share. If waiting seasons are necessary to prepare us for the fulfillment of our soul’s longing, is this not something we should greet with joy?
Waiting and Running.
Psalms 26 and 27 shows Davids’s lament for vindication while longing for the Lord’s presence. He wrote these psalms while fleeing from either Saul or Absalom, most likely in the wilderness or desert. We see him grieve separation from temple worship and express a deep longing for the House of the Lord while remaining confidence in God’s character.[1] The sorrow in these psalms align with the character of David, who previously offered to build God’s temple and be hospitable for His presence. He deeply craves to worship and participate in relationship with the Lord. Here, David’s lament reads as homesickness for the place where God’s glory is displayed.
Psalm 26
Regardless of exact context, we see David yearning for sanctuary—for this wilderness era to be closed along with the gap between He and God. His cries do not result from resentment towards God, but from praise of His goodness.[2] Even in his distress, David sees God’s faithfulness and expresses need for it. David’s lament is not empty sorrow, but rather one that finds hope in God’s closeness. We see his cries for vindication, but also his testament to the steadfast love of God which brings the peace of His presence near.
While grieving separation from the temple, David finds that the Lord is closer than ever. While longing for the House of the Lord, David finds refuge in the shelter of God’s wing. This protection remains ever-present to guide us through brokenness, into the fulfillment of our desires for eternal, complete presence of Life.
As Psalm 26 closes, David’s cries for vindication crescendo into meek confidence. It is not a manic motivation, or sudden surge of boldness. Rather, he finds certainty in submission to God’s refuge. The tone feels like the secure exhale of peace and safety when one returns home after a long time away. The following Psalm is led by this blessed assurance and resulting praise.
Psalm 27
David continues the following Psalm with the confidence he found in God’s presence. He uses “light” and “stronghold” to describe the Lord and His salvation. David’s use of these words is the basis for many of their applications in the New Testament, such as in Ephesians 5:8 which states, “You are in the light of the Lord, live as children of light.” Those who live in the light abide in Christ, whom they have accepted as their salvation. In Jesus, there is perfect love that casts out fear, illuminating through darkness and preventing us from stumbling. In this way, He is our stronghold by saving us from the harms that seek to attack in the dark. David wrote this psalm hundreds of years before the birth of Christ yet still showed a rich understanding of Messianic language and his need for God’s salvation. This is the need that reveals his desire for the Lord’s presence.
David’s confidence and longing for God’s presence encourage each other throughout these psalms. We see his call for salvation assured by the Lord’s nearness, which in turn produces more steadfastness, which increases his desire to be near to God. As the Lord continues to prove his faithfulness, David seeks to be closer, growing bolder with each step. We see his cries for deliverance interact with his assurance in the Lord, both resulting from the love he holds for God’s glory.
We aren’t fleeing for our life…so what does this have to do with us?
David’s waiting season looked very different than ours do today. Running from an evil son-king is very different than waiting for a job promotion. However, he articulates the human desire for closeness with God and shows us that we can still enter His presence while we await eternal fulfillment.
Why is this encouraging? Because if the hardest parts of our waiting season culminate to our need for God’s presence, there is a solution. Christ has gone ahead of us to prepare an eternal place for us, and He ensured our access to the Father in the meantime. He became our intercessor, sacrifice, and High Priest on the cross so that once we enter God’s presence, He will never leave or forsake us. The sin that separated us is abolished, so we have hope, light, and protection while we await God’s eternal kingdom.
Our waiting is not hopeless, it is a space for God to build us into His kingdom people. Every ounce of our being feels the need for this kingdom and seeks the presence of God in response. As we are being sanctified, we can step into the Father’s arms for relief, victory, guidance, and joy. Just like David, we can express lament and confidence at the same time, both praising the Lord for His goodness and longing for His eternal kingdom. Until we are face to face with our Creator, our hearts will be waiting for fulfillment.
We were created to dwell with the Lord and each other for eternity, so that purpose cannot be completed in a temporary world. In this sense, waiting on earth is not curable. However, God removes the pain from waiting. Those who live in the light and stronghold of Christ wait with hope. Jesus reveals our identity and purpose, so we no longer desire “becoming,” rather, we desire ultimate belonging. This is a curable desire, for all we have to do is step into the Father’s arms.
[1] Franz Delitzsch, Psalms 26-27, vol. 1 of Commentaries on the Old Testament: Psalms. ed. Rev. F. Bolton (Grand Rapids: Eerdmands, 1970), 120.
[2] Willem A VanGeren, “Psalms,” in vol. 5 of The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, rev. ed., ed. Tremper Longman III and David E. Garland, (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008), 276.