Just thinking about gifts.
Half the enjoyment-- more than half-- is being surprised. My mom always sends me a birthday gift days in advance, with the instruction not to open it until the big day. I could conceivably disregard this, seeing as the apron strings were severed a while ago. But I wait, every time, because waiting is half the fun.
Not so much with God. He so often stands and tells me to wait, and in response I accuse Him of holding out on me. It's more difficult to believe He's got good things coming when it isn't in my hand or sitting on my dresser in a pink envelope, and the last thing I want to do is wait for it. In this response, I rob myself and bear insult to my Father, who makes me wait for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the pleasure of patient expectation, anticipation.
If I trust Him to do good and to love me, waiting is no longer an uncertain game but a temporary pleasure. Waiting is half the fun.
Half the enjoyment-- more than half-- is being surprised. My mom always sends me a birthday gift days in advance, with the instruction not to open it until the big day. I could conceivably disregard this, seeing as the apron strings were severed a while ago. But I wait, every time, because waiting is half the fun.
Not so much with God. He so often stands and tells me to wait, and in response I accuse Him of holding out on me. It's more difficult to believe He's got good things coming when it isn't in my hand or sitting on my dresser in a pink envelope, and the last thing I want to do is wait for it. In this response, I rob myself and bear insult to my Father, who makes me wait for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the pleasure of patient expectation, anticipation.
If I trust Him to do good and to love me, waiting is no longer an uncertain game but a temporary pleasure. Waiting is half the fun.