Category Archives: Waiting

Headlights

By Kristen Entwistle

I was driving home late last night, down one of those two lane country roads in Indiana.  Turns out, there’s a lot of those roads, and I’m pretty unfamiliar with them right now.  You see, I just moved here, and I’m still learning my way around.  I don’t know which roads twist and turn or which ones are likely to have horses and buggies on them.  I don’t know which ones have stop signs every half mile, and which ones go on forever.

Most of these roads have a ditch on either side of them and people who drive like maniacs.  Oh, and people who blind you with their high beams.

As I was driving down that two lane road last night, it was a little scary – not being able to see more than a hundred feet in front of you and not knowing what’s up ahead.

It’s kind of like life, isn’t it?  God gives us these glimpses of what He is calling us to do, these rare moments of certainty where we can see a hundred feet in front of us.  But we can’t see what’s coming.  We can’t see that there’s a sharp turn or a stop sign up ahead.  That cancer is going to hit us seemingly out of nowhere or that a close friend is going to die unexpectedly.  But we can’t see the good things too – the new baby, the extra money that just showed up in the budget – all we can see is what God illuminates before us.

photo-1455772376404-2a908684e054

Occasionally we get a glimpse of what’s coming when there’s a house light on, or a gas station.  But not very often.  Most of the time we’re still in the dark, with only our headlights.

Walking in faith isn’t easy, and it’s certainly not without its difficulties.  But we’ve got a God who can see all the twists and turns and stop signs because He built the road.  He knows what lies ahead for us and He guides us through it.

We may end up in the ditch sometimes, or make a wrong turn, but still He shows us the way, one step at a time.

Challenges, Speedbumps, and Mountains

I started off 2016/ended 2015 with this facebook status:

Honestly, I’m glad that 2015 is going to be in the rearview mirror. Praying that 2016’s challenges and speedbumps and mountains will be weathered with God’s grace and strength, not my own.

And boy, what a 2016 it’s been so far.

Challenges, speedbumps, and mountains?  Check, check, and check.

I can’t give you all the details (because I don’t know all of them myself) but suffice it to say that every area of my life has been … well, for lack of any other words, jumbled up … this year.

I am facing a year of giant changes.  I don’t know yet where these changes will take me – or when.  But I do know that God is unchanging.  Unyielding.  Immovable.

I am facing a year of the unknown.  I don’t know what is going to happen in this year, but I do know that God is all-knowing.  All-loving.  All-powerful.

2016 not my own

I am facing more than a year of challenges – I am facing a lifetime.  A lifetime of things that I don’t expect, don’t understand, and won’t soon forget.  But it’s a lifetime of challenges weathered with the God of the Universe on my side.

I am facing more than a year of speedbumps – I am facing a lifetime.  Some speedbumps may throw me for a loop, while others may slow me down.  But it’s a lifetime of speedbumps faced with my God in the driver’s seat.

I am facing more than a year of mountains – I am facing a lifetime.  I will climb, and I will fall.  And when I get to the top, there will be more mountains to climb. But it’s a lifetime of climbing mountains with the Lord of Creation by my side.

I can’t do this, but God can.  And He will.  Every step of the way, He is with me.  No matter what challenges, speedbumps and mountains come my way, I will not be shaken.  I will not be moved.  Because my God is with me, and He will never leave or forsake me.  Amen and amen.

 

Thank You

By Kristen Entwistle

As my family gathered around the table last week to celebrate Thanksgiving, I found myself caught up in the to-do list.  Is the table set?  Is the right tablecloth on the table?  Is the pumpkin pie made?  Is the turkey carved?  Why isn’t the gravy thickening?  Are the candles lit?  Why isn’t everyone at the table?  Oh no, we forgot the butter!  Are the sweet potatoes done?

After the dishes were put away, the pie and turkey had been consumed, and the Lions won (what!!), I finally turned my attention to giving thanks.  It wasn’t about the turkey, or the pie, or the game of Dutch Blitz I won, or even football.  It’s about saying, “Thank you” even when you don’t think you have anything to be thankful for. 

thanks 1

Thank you in the midst of the unknown, in the middle of cancer.  Thank you in the midst of funerals and hospice care.  Thank you even when the world and its violence doesn’t make sense.  Thank you in the middle of the falling apart, the impossible, and the unexplained.

thanks 2

It’s thank you when all you see around you is the darkness, the violence, the unknown.  It’s thank you for what I have, even if it seems so little – it’s more than I deserve already.  It’s thank you for every day, not just this day, the day that reminds me to be thankful.  It’s thank you for the food on my table, and the people around it, both near and far.  It’s thank you for life, and love, and learning, and growing.  It’s thank you for the cross.

Thank you for Your grace – because it is something freely given that I do not deserve, or have to earn.

Thank you for Your love – because it is perfect, holy, and true.  It is so much more than I ever can imagine.

Thank you for Your mercy – on me, a sinner.

Thank you for Your Son – the Savior of the world, whose advent we await with confident expectation this season.

thanks 3

Not My Dreams, But Yours

By Kristen Entwistle

I don’t put much stock in dreaming.  Mostly because I find that the dreams (as in hopes and aspirations) I have end up getting squashed by the world or by other people.  Perhaps that’s why I didn’t particularly like this song the first few times I heard it.  Then I actually started listening.

The song talks about David, his dreams of being a ‘big-time shepherd someday.’  But God had bigger plans for him than shepherding sheep.  David was going to the shepherd king, the one on whom the lineage of Jesus rested.  The song talks about Mary, who dreamed of having a family.

But God had bigger plans for her: raising a king. 

Makes me wonder what kind of dreams God has for me.

dreams 1

Because if I allow myself to really think about it, I do have dreams: Dreams of white dresses and of kids playing in the backyard.  Dreams of teaching and writing and speaking.  Dreams of contributing in a very small way to CF research.  Dreams of loving the next generation to Jesus.

Sometimes I start to wonder if I’m just deluding myself, hoping that these dreams might someday come true.  Sometimes I wonder if dreaming is worth it – if I’m just going to be disappointed.

Because when you’re in the thick of life, when it feels like you’re sinking in the quicksand, straining against the current or stuck in the mud – I find that it’s harder to stay positive, and easier to be cynical and bitter.

But then I come back to this song, Dream For You.  What would happen if I let God dream for me instead?

What if I was just have willing to say, “God, do with me and my life what you will.  I’m willing to live all of my life for you.  Not my will, but yours be done.  Not my dreams, God, but yours.” 

dreams 2

It’s not like my dreams are unrealistic – being a princess or having a castle or being a millionaire.  But in the end, God has a better plan for me than I could ever imagine.  And yes, I hope that some of the things that I dream of will come true someday.  But I’m going to let Him dream for me tonight, and wait and see what He’s got in store.

So come on, let me dream, let me dream for you

I am strong, when you’re weak I will carry you

So let go of your plans, be caught in my hand

I’ll show you what I can do

When I dream for you

 

Praying In The Waiting Room

By Kristen Entwistle

When I sit in doctor’s offices, waiting (which is fairly often if you’re me), I tend to people-watch. Most of the time, there’s the mom with two kids who she has to take back with her, even though it’s her appointment. She looks frazzled and a little overwhelmed as they lead her back to the room. There’s the teenager who’s here with her mom, and her mom is trying to micromanage everything she writes on the sheet the receptionist hands her. The daughter gets frustrated (I can do it myself!), and quits talking to her mom, finishing the paperwork with a scowl on her face. There’s the older couple in the corner, with the man nodding off while his wife reads a magazine. The receptionists continue clacking away on their keyboards. Then a man walks in, sits down, a look of fear in his eyes. He’s expecting bad news, it seems. A pregnant woman walks in alone, no ring on her finger. I wonder what has brought her here today – herself or her baby.

I’ve spent a significant portion of my life in doctor’s offices, waiting. Perhaps not so patiently, but waiting nonetheless. And I’ve spent much time watching.

And yet I cannot physically help any of these people.

I cannot take away their diabetes or asthma or pain. But I want to, so badly, to tell them that it doesn’t have to be terrible. That good can come from these ‘bad’ things. I’ve seen it.

But the only way that happens is with God.

And so, as I sit here waiting, I pray for these people – sitting here, waiting with me. I pray that if they don’t know Christ, that someone will come into their path to tell them about the love that He has for them. I pray that if they do know Christ, that they would lean on Him in the tough times and the good times, and that they would be a light to those they come in contact with, even in this office today.

And I pray the same for you, even though you aren’t in this office right now.

I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:17-19)

Amen.