I'll find you in the waiting

Photo Credit @ Jessica Drake Photography

"let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, 

having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience and our 

bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession 

of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful. 

And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good 

works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is 

the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much 

the more as you see the day approaching."

Hebrews 10:22-25

I've heard this sound reverberating. It's in the ground, the walls, echoing through the caverns of my mind, the voices of reason around me, honing in on my hear and like above splattered in the words I read. It's this phrase - that "He's in the Waiting." It's a beautiful sentiment all on it's own - a hope - a promise - a guarantee. But what does it mean, really MEAN? 

If I look back 10 years, 5 years, 1 year, 1 week, 1 day, 1 hour I can find it easily - waiting that is. I was living in it, sitting in it - consumed by its truth, its long suffering knowledge and existence, yes its very presence. What was or am I waiting for? There was the waiting for discovery - to discover who I am for myself, who I should be for Him, who I was to be discovered by. There was the waiting for flowers to be plucked, for a waking up or for the ability to put to sleep again. I was waiting to be found or to not NEED to be found. I was waiting to leave which molded to waiting to find a place to land. I was waiting to be independent which eventually became waiting to not be single anymore. I was waiting to grow up but then I was waiting for time to decrease its speed and let me stay a while. I was waiting for the coffee to brew, the water to boil, the alarm to go off. And I'm waiting to feel like i've arrived, like I belong, like I have something of substance and matter and worth beyond my self contained existence. And somewhere along the haves and the have nots I discovered its not in the what.

There will always be a waiting. And if I am being honest i've always said the He was there in it, in the waiting - with me in the waiting. But it was a fact spoken like a fiction, splattered only with hope like it was the same as truth. Today I read Hebrews 10, a scripture that has long been special, and significant and significantly misinterpreted by me, and today when I read it something new stood out to me. "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope" and that's where I have stopped in the past, at the confession of my hope - like it's a wish - a dream - merely a possibility. "Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful." Without wavering - which isn't hope at all - not as i've known it. This hope is new and its not dependent on my emotional ups and downs - my haves and my have nots - my wants and my needs. It's solid - it's sure - it's confident like a faith filled promise. Is it significant that I am waiting? Because my past alone shows me that I've always waited and it's a repetitive cycle of me. Or is it significant that He is in it - with me in the waiting, and if he is calling me to be anything like Him - than could He be calling me to be in it? Could He be calling me to a table? And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the day approaching." So here I see, that I am at the table, and we are waiting for a feast of many different things, but it's not about what we are about to consume or who showed up first or who showed up last but rather about the waiting at the table - with not for. I look to my left and my husband is waiting for a revelation of the future, and my friend over there is waiting to not be single or not to despise her singleness, and my friend over here is waiting for a confident reassurance of where this goes, and he is waiting for a new job, and she is waiting for a purpose in the waiting, and he is waiting for a baby, and she is praying for patience, and he is waiting on hope and counting on a way out, and she is waiting to go, and he is waiting for a reason to stay. And I am waiting to be useful and needed. I look around the table at the faces who have waited all their lives and whose heads are looking up and seeing where they fit at the table and here I stay.