A former FPCE pastor Paul Suzuki often likened waiting for the Lord with handing our winter wraps over to the coat check room when we go to dinner or a show. Often the way we wait on God resembles getting up every 5-10 minutes to confirm they still have our coat and it is safe. We miss the delightful meal, heartwarming conversation, or enjoyable show because of our fretting and inattention. I think Rev Suzuki would say that it reveals our lack of trust. I wonder if some of us fear we might forget the coat if we set it aside. Well, remember we have that coat for a reason and it has a place in our life. We need the coat; the coat has a function in our life—especially if we are going to go back out in the weather.
It is the same with our worries, concerns and cares—they too have a place in with us. Our deepest cries matter and they are a partner in our lives. They remind us of our humanity, our connectedness to others, our incompleteness, and our needs. As with the coat, it is important that we treat these concerns with dignity and grace. They don’t disappear when we wait for God.
But God is no ordinary coat check clerk. God is the fullness of forgiveness, hope and restoration. How wonderful if each time we got back our coat it was a little cleaner, a little better fitting, yet still recognizable as our coat? What a delight it would be to anticipate the transformation! And yet in partnering with God, crying out and then waiting, our cares are transformed. They have the opportunity of taking on a little more forgiveness, a little more hope, a little more movement toward restoration. They may look a lot like they used to, but don’t underestimate the power of subtle changes. I can tell you they make a big difference. It is ok to wait; it is a faithful process in which to put your trust.
And, if you do happen to forget to go back for your coat, well, maybe you didn’t really need it, or perhaps, it really wasn’t yours to begin with. God will find a way to return it to the rightful owner. It will not be lost.
Constantly forgiven and restored,
Susan Colten
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