Sweet Anticipation.

Waiting can be painful. I would even go as far to say, waiting is painful.

 

Waiting for Christmas or a special occasion is different. That’s because the element of sweet certainty is whisked in, and it results in a delectable aroma called Anticipation. Waiting, on its own, in its raw form, however, without the added sweetener of certainty, is sour, bitter and stinging all at the same time. Without certainty, waiting can be pure torture.

 

Imagine this- a busy worker working long and hard through the year without any break in between, 90 hours a week, looking forward to a relaxed winter wonderland holiday filled with presents, hot chocolate, gifts, the warmth of friends and family… or a bride looking forward with pregnant expectancy to her special wedding day to the man of her dreams… or a child, having just seen Daddy leave through the front door, waiting, waiting, waiting with impatience at his return from work in the evening, his anxious delight increasing with every hour passing through the day…  Imagine the weight of this delightful mix of joy, hope and promise growing and growing like an ever-expanding balloon as the Special moment arrives. This kind of waiting is not usually painful- there may be impatience, sometimes even a gnawing one, but the sweetness of certainty softens, tempers and honeys the soury pangs of waiting into a delightfully heightened sensation called Anticipation.

 

It began like that. It really did. I was so excited. When Cliff and I decided we would make drastic changes and deliberate decisions to forge our path towards mid to long-term missions in a rural place in the near future, the sense of glowing anticipation made us scared and happy and giddy all at the same time. Even though the decisions were painful- me giving up my space to study public health in John Hopkins not once but twice; us re-visiting the issue only to walk away from another space in University of British Columbia; me turning down my director’s offer for me to pursue specialisation/ residency because of the call God was leading us to (everybody’s call is different- so don’t misunderstand me that following God means giving up your specialisation, though it could mean so); us deciding not to buy a house or a car or unnecessary commodities; us spending countless hours discussing visa and citizenship issues; us  meeting different missionaries to explore the options.

 

It was so much fun.

 

But you see, Christmas is fun because of the process of putting up the decorations and Christmas Trees and bright lights leading up to the occasion; a Wedding Day is fun because of the process of choosing the gown and inviting people and picking the flowers leading up to the special day; waiting for a parent to return from work is fun because you can just imagine Daddy walking through the door with open arms waiting for you to charge right into before he envelopes you with a great big open hug and tosses you into the air. It is the certainty of the event happening at the end like a  sweet dessert, that makes Anticipation a savoury appetizer.

 

But when there is no certainty of the event ever actually taking place, in spite of all your elaborate preparations, that is painful. Waiting, in its raw form without the sweetness of certainty to make it anticipatory, is excruciating.

 

Imagine spending thousands of dollars on streetlight decorations and holiday planning only to have the government announce that Christmas this year may not be certain- it may or may not be a public holiday; imagine making all the reservations and inviting all the guests only to have the groom announce that the Wedding Day may or may not happen- depending on the weather or his mood on the day; imagine spending the whole day drawing a card for Daddy and rehearsing your trick of demonstrating a cartwheel for him, only to find out he may have an urgent business trip overseas and may not return for a few more days or weeks. You feel like throwing in the towel.

 

It’s time to come clean. Days became weeks and weeks became months. We would make painful decisions, turning down a better job offer, refusing residency (again! You can sense my frustration) in spite of different professors and directors asking me to re-consider; us spending time to attend missions talks and explore options… only to have more options in serving in missions, but not more clarity, only to have narrower options in our current jobs but not more promotion. As time passed, things looked bleaker. After the victory of finally getting no-pay leave approved on both our ends, and our supervisors’ blessings, was an ignominious, deflated let-down of a situation. Here we were, with the elaborate preparations and painful sacrifices made, only to find ourselves lost in the in-between, not knowing if we were actually coming any closer to God’s call for our lives. People offered us many places to serve in- war-torn areas, poverty-stricken places, disease-ridden communities, or all of the above, but none boldly convicted our hearts through God’s Spirit.

 

God, are you there? Are you actually real? You’re not playing us out, are you? Not now, not after everything we’ve done? You’re not calling off the wedding and Christmas after all we’ve put into this, are you?

 

As these times of questioning and seeking became more frequent, this soliloquy became more isolating. Against a silent God who is attentively listening and watchfully waiting, we can mistake Him as being absent.

 

It did not help that as these moments with God became more lonely and desolate, the moments before men became more frenzied and frantic in comparison. Where are you going? What will you be doing? What about your job? What about your house? What about kids in future? What about Cliff’s health coverage for his liver issues? What about your career?  Who’s going to support you financially? I heard you’re doing a new book- when will it be published? Want to ride on my event? How did you get your leave approved? So what’re your plans? When are you leaving for missions? Can I come?

 

As the same questions came pouring in like a drowning waterfall, repeatedly from different people, and the times alone with God became more and more lonely and bewildering, a cold, cold night settled over my heart and made it its home. I became tired, resentful of these grating questions, which had a searing effect on me, like a warm hug over a fresh abrasion- filled with good intentions, but completely insensitive and wounding. It was a friend who shared with me, “Everyone is fascinated by the next steps you and Cliff are taking. It’s no wonder everyone is asking you.”

 

I wanted to snap. At these times, Cliff would always hold my hand, as I wrung a sour smile from my face. I really just wanted to head home immediately and plonk my face into a pillow.

 

It was not helpful. I started avoiding social gatherings where I knew these questions would be asked enthusiastically- first unconsciously, and then more and more consciously I noticed myself extricating myself pre-emptively from these situations; I started to grow disillusioned with the growing options- Tanzania, Kenya, Nigeria, Pakistan, Nepal, China, Timor Leste since God never confirmed any of them in spite of prayer every day, twice or thrice a day; I found myself repelled from conversations and events which involved people talking about their careers- taking exams, getting promoted, going overseas… When I did not do so, I found myself in tears afterwards at some point, struggling to reconcile the frenzied present with an uncertain future, wrestling with a supposedly benevolent, omnipresent, compassionate God who seemed to have abandoned us and put all my prayers on the waiting list or worse, into a spam box.

 

It was then, when certainty became less and less visible, that discouragement set it. After discouragement, came depression, and then my fear of becoming consumed by it. There were times where tears would come on unpredictably, after a conversation which triggered some emotional switch, or after treading through some old thoughts. The most insensitive questions would come from the people I least expected, and issues which I thought I had crucified and put to death would resurrect with a hateful vengeance- “Why did you give up Ophthalmology? You would have been so much more useful in XX place I was thinking of.”

 

Then came a night where I, in tears, could not sleep till 3am. Cliff was holding me, not sleeping either because I was inconsolable, even though I was reading Psalm after Psalm in the bible. I was angry with waiting, angry at God, angry at there not being an answer with a blueprint for so long. The clichés people used for consolation- “Be patient, God will reveal in His time” sounded insipid and anemic against my pulsing, raging struggles.  We had let go of so much, only to find ourselves before a huge question-mark. I had been patient and trusting for months and right there and then, I had had enough and decided it was too much.

 

Waiting is a funny thing. It need not be painful if one is patient. But God has His way of s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g  our patience, as He moulds our characters. He has a way of putting you, a piece of silver, out in the open fire like a blacksmith, purifying you under high heat, but watching ever so carefully to ensure its done properly, only letting up when He sees His own image in the shiny metal- you; He has a way of applying pressure on you, squeezing you like a grape, until it becomes poured-out wine, ready to refresh others. In the midst of all of this, I admit, I questioned His goodness, I interrogated His intentions. And slowly but surely, learnt about God’s nature, and the purpose of waiting. (LINK)

 

Waiting purifies our intentions, sieving the good from the tainted; waiting stretches our patience further and changes our character, and most of all, waiting throws you into the wilderness such that there is nothing to sustain you except God Himself.

 

I am learning, that Waiting is a necessary pain, and life without pain is desirable, only if you are willing to accept the leprous consequence of stagnation and death. Pain pushes us closer to the heart of God, especially in the face of uncertainty, and develops a necessary dependency on Him that is essential in the mission field. I am learning, that the only way Waiting becomes bearable, is when through the pain and intimacy of dependency, trust and certainty in His promises is developed and sweetens it to become Anticipation. I await that.

 

It took me a long time to write about this, because I didn’t want this to invite more questions. But the journey of processing this has been incredibly precious, and so here I pen them. If you feel led to pray with us, please do; but I ask you to be understanding and gracious to give us space and not to ask us any more questions until we navigate our way through this. We are not celebrities, just ordinary people treading through the challenges of life, slightly off the beaten track.

 

I don’t know what you’re going through today,

but if you feel like God has abandoned you, know that He has not.

If He is silent, know that He is not absent, even though it can feel like that at times.

Frustration, pain and rejection are all a part of the journey of growth and refinement, until we learn to trust in Him.

Trust invites faith, which in turn invites that sense of peace and certainty to dwell in our unsettled hearts

 and turns painful waiting into joyful anticipation.

He is a patient, merciful God, watchfully purifying you in the furnace, quietly waiting for you to turn to Him until you find your all in all, your successes and failures, joys and disappointments, securities and attachments,

in Him and Him alone.

 

Wait, and anticipate. He will come.

 

“Be courageous. Offer your pains to God. Pray for the strength to endure.

bove all, develop a habit of conversing often with Him.

Adore Him in your infirmities.

At the very height of your suffering, ask Him humbly and affectionately

(as a child to a good parent)

to help you to accept His will.”

 

– Brother Lawrence, quoted from “When We Hurt” by Philip Yancey & Dr Paul Brand

 

 

“The eyes of the Lord watch over those who do right;

His ears are open to their cries of help…

 

… The Lord hears His people when they call to Him for help,

He rescues them from all their troubled.

The Lord is close to the broken hearted;

He rescues those whose spirits are crushed…

 

-Psalm 34:15-18