Sometimes it feels like I’ve spent most of my life waiting. I’ve eagerly stared at the clock in ordinary moments: waiting in the doctor’s office, waiting for the brownies to bake, waiting for a summer rainstorm to end. And I’ve impatiently watched days pass on my calendar for extraordinary moments: to turn in my college thesis, for the arrival of my best friend from out of town, for the days until my wedding.
I also find myself looking ahead to new chapters in my life. As a child, I eagerly anticipated each birthday, wishing to be a teenager, and, then as a teenager, dreaming to be a grown-up. Once I became an adult, I spent most of my days waiting impatiently to meet my future husband so I could finally start the family I always wanted. In each stage of my life, I was more present to my future dreams than to the reality before me.
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Even now, as a married woman without children, I wait. While I may have more patience for the small things, like the kitchen timer, it’s become more challenging to wait for the future. In the mundane moments, it’s easy to think that diaper changing and stroller walking will be more fulfilling than my present daily grind. I often catch myself daydreaming about our backyard filled with children’s laughter as they play or family game nights around a full dining room table.
Making idols in uncertainty
I would be lying if I said that the waiting hasn’t been painful. But as I look back, I see how each stage in life has its particular crosses to bear. I realize it’s always been easier to set my sights on the future than to endure the suffering of the present because the thought of the future provides an escape and a comfort in knowing that my perseverance will be worthwhile.
We wait because we have an image of what we want for ourselves, and we want the certainty to know it will come to fulfillment. To stave off the discomfort of uncertainty, our hearts create idols that give purpose and direction when God’s plan seems unclear. They are easy to hold onto when God has not called us to the next chapter yet, and they grant the illusion that we have control over the timelines and outcomes of our lives. While future dreams may be inherently good, they become idols when they take the place of God and replace his will with our own.
For so long, I’ve made my dream of motherhood into an idol. I put the idea of myself as a mother at the center of every decision. In between the present-me and future-me, I left little room for God to work in my life or to bring me toward a different path. I closed myself off from the possibility that God’s plan is greater than what I can imagine, and I was unable to recognize blessings in my life that did not align with my own goals.
Clinging onto idols during times of waiting is nothing new. Just look at the Israelites while they waited to enter the Promised Land. During their wandering in the desert, God consistently provided for their needs and protected his people. But even after witnessing numerous miracles during their escape from Egypt, the Israelites still doubted God’s promise of freedom. The moment that Moses went to Mount Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments, the people turned their backs. In their impatience, they created a golden calf to worship (cf. Ex 32). They set their gaze upon something tangible to give them the sense that their lives were still moving toward the land that they had been promised. We are so often like the Israelites. In moments when God seems silent or far away, and in moments when our prayers seem unanswered or ignored, our hearts grasp for a savior. Our desperation lures us to worship our dreams, our goals and even ourselves, as we fail to wait for God’s voice.
We are called to wait
Yet, God wants us to wait. As women, each of us is called to motherhood, whether spiritual or physical, but we must let God reveal what our unique journeys will look like to get there. God has placed desires on our hearts, but we are called to trust in his guidance and timing.
There is purpose in the waiting. Waiting purifies our desires and transforms our faith. As we wait, God reminds us that he is with us, and, even as we wander and worship false idols, he calls us back to himself. In his mercy, God shatters our idols. I am reminded of this each time I see the single line on the pregnancy test. In the sadness of the moment, I find myself grasping for a new plan or a new dream. Although there may be the inclination to build new idols, in his tenderness, God invites us to surrender our hearts to his perfect will. Through the process of shattering and surrendering, we hear God tell us, “my ways are higher than your ways” (Is 55:9).
We are called to wait because we are called to hope. It may seem that living in the moment is the solution to avoid the suffering of waiting, yet, this fails to acknowledge that we are a people created for eternal life. We must simultaneously hold present-living with hope for the time to come. Waiting is what lies in between the present and the future and is an integral part of our journeys to sanctity.
I am a waiting woman. While I wait for future children, I now recognize the purpose in trusting that God’s plan and timing are far better than my own. I know that God is calling this desire to be purified, and he is working to transform my faith through this cross. When I wait in the doctor’s office, I know it is because someone else is being treated. When I wait for the brownies to bake, I know it is because physical reality takes time to change. Even as I wait for the storm to pass, I know that flowers need watering and there is infinite meaning in the in-between.
