Suddenly, Unexpectedly

Suddenly, Unexpectedly

Thine eyes have seen my unformed substance,
And in Thy book they were all written,
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.
Psalm 139:16

For years, I’ve been waiting for God to do something with my life. I frequently reminded Him that I’ve suffered plenty, been patient a good long while, been as faithful as I knew how to be, and that if He has plans for me, He’d better get cracking ‘cause time was a-wasting, and I wasn’t getting any younger. When I managed to keep quiet and let God work, He matured my faith and taught me to rest in His promises, spend time in His Word, enjoy the day at hand, and wait for His perfect timing to unfold.

But I didn’t keep quiet and let God work very often, which explains why He waited fifty years to move His plans for me into high gear.

But suddenly and unexpectedly, about a year ago, that’s exactly what he did. In September, my role as my mother’s primary support person ended. I was able to finish the first draft of my Different Dream manuscript of meditations for parents of really sick kids ahead of schedule.

Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, our son called from his monastery after Thanksgiving. Allen asked Hiram and me to help him find mental health treatment for the medical trauma he’d endured as a child. For the next month, God answered prayer after prayer with lightning speed. Our son’s treatment was wildly successful. Despite being on the road with him, I edited Different Dream and sent it to the publisher ahead of time.

Throughout the winter and spring, God continued to work at mock speed. Suddenly and unexpectedly, our son found a good job and the wonderful woman he’d left behind six years earlier. Mom’s house sold a day after being listed. An editor wanted to see more chapters of the mystery novel a friend and I were writing. Our daughter met her steady boyfriend. Hiram became a runner.

This summer, God revved things up even more. Suddenly and unexpectedly, the editor who read the mystery chapters asked to see the complete manuscript. Our son became engaged. The release date for Different Dream approached, and there wasn’t enough time to get everything – the website, the marketing and promotion, the mystery novel, our daughter back to college – done beforehand.

But one day, suddenly and unexpectedly, everything was finished. That morning while I walked, I thanked God for the fifty years of endurance training that had prepared me for the marathon of the past twelve months.

When I returned home after my walk, three cardboard cartons sat on the doorstep. My books had arrived, suddenly and unexpectedly. Almost like God planned it that way.

Waiting

Waiting

Waiting is so hard, especially for an impatient person like me. I was sure that yesterday would be the end of waiting for me. The publication committee at the house considering my book proposal, A Different Dream for My Child: Meditations for Parents of Critically and Chronically Ill Children, met yesterday. And my proposal was on the agenda. Finally, after months of waiting, I would have an answer.

Only that’s not how it happened. I got a call from the editor. The committee liked the writing. They think the topic is important and that there’s a hurting audience that needs to be reached. But they aren’t sure how to crack the market so the book gets to parents and families who need it. So the marketing people want a month to come up with a plan. If the plan’s viable, the book might be published.

I was a little disappointed until I looked outside and saw the red oak tree. A month ago, it was the last tree in the yard still hanging onto it’s leaves. Every day for weeks I checked to see if the leaves had fallen. They hadn’t. But then we went on vacation, and I got out of the habit. When I looked today, its leaves were all on the ground.

All my watching didn’t move things along, but when the time was right, the change came quickly. So I’m still waiting for the right time. And I’m pretty sure God’s chuckling as He teaches me another lesson in patience.