Waiting

I pine for You with every prayer spoken, every candle lit, every hymn intoned, every silence observed.

My heart would burst in the waiting if I did not know so certainly that you would not fail to arrive.

How could you fail — You who are eternally faithful — and so while I wait, I count the ways I love You:

I love that You greet me with birdsong every morning and speak comfort to my heart every evening with sunset.

I love that You are restless for the realization of justice, yet You do not neglect mercy in pursuit of our redemption.

I love that You do not love me first or even second, that You love creation most of all and covet its adoration.

I love that You are unexpected: calling dry bones to dance, proclaiming life in the desert, raising up children to lead us.

I love that You are playful even in Your power — there goes the gangly ostrich and the tentacled star-nosed mole!

Let me see a sign of Your coming, just a glimpse that You have not forgotten Your promise, and my heart will be content.

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