“Be brave. Be strong. Don’t give up. Expect God to get here soon.” (Psalm 31:24, The Message)
I have spent the majority of my life expecting good things to happen. Things that never came to pass. I’ve been waiting for years to see my eldest son get saved, and now I’m waiting for my little boy to show some kind of interest in God at all.
I’m constantly expecting the goodness of God, which seems to never arrive. I keep expecting God to make the wrongs in my life right, as He promises. I keep expecting justice in the areas where we have seen the bad guys win and we’ve lost everything. I keep expecting God to get us out of poverty. I keep expecting God to show me what my calling is, because every time I get close to what I think it may be, the doors are shut. I keep expecting my in-laws to do the right thing. I keep expecting my husband to be honest with me.
I’ve been brave. I’ve been strong. I haven’t given up. But I’m close.
I keep expecting God to get here soon. And He never shows up.
Every time I get a glimmer of hope, it’s snatched away. Every time I think something might change, it’s only just another disappointment.
I keep trying to find hope where there is none. I keep trying to build my faith and just “believe” God’s got this. I keep trying to trust God only to find that when I do I end up in worse places than I was before.
Expecting God reminds me of how I used to wait for my father to come back home after he left us to start another family. It reminds me of how many times my mother used to leave me home alone when I was five and instead of comforting me, she’d get mad at me for being so scared. It reminds me of all the times my eldest son waited for his dad to come pick him up but he never did. It feels a lot like that. This waiting. This expectation.
And yet, here I am…still expecting God to get here soon. I’m either a fool, or I trust God more than I care to admit.