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I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,

and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord. Psalm 130:5-6a

     Lord Jesus, my 95-year-old spiritual Mom reminded me of this remarkable passage yesterday. It came like rain on my pity party, and a dart to the balloon of my self-absorption. To which I say, thank you Rose Marie; but 10,000 times more so, thank you Jesus.

What am I waiting for? Simply for COVID-19 to go away, or freedom to go anywhere I want without wearing a mask, or the stock market to get back to where it was in early February? Or maybe for college football to actually happen this Fall, or for the upcoming presidential election to be done-and-over; or to be able to get on an airplane and go fish anywhere I want? Are these things all I’m waiting for? If so, what a pathetic waste of the waiting-mode. I’m far too easily satisfied.

Indeed, in my most Gospel-sane moments, Jesus, I know it’s you I want, crave, long for more than anything else. Not “streets of gold,” or simply being out of the current mess(es) of life in this world. It’s you I wait for.

I join my daily-prayer-posse-family in affirming: We put our hope in your word, Jesus. Our whole-being waits for you—not simply what you give, but everything you are. Jesus, grant us fresh, heart-palpitating, soul-satisfying intimacy with you in these coming weeks. But come back soon, for we want all of you, all the time, forever. So very Amen we pray, in your loving and most grace-filled name.

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