Do you wait well?
I do when I think about it. When I remind myself that God’s timetable is not my timetable. I want what I want when I want it.
God says, “Hold on child. Don’t get in front of me. Wait.”
Chagrinned, I drop my head. “Yes, Lord,” I whisper. But part of me still strains.
Until, like the Marlin sitting on my Dad’s boat and waiting for his dinner, I surrender my want to Christ.
And wait. Expectant.