Wait
(Unknown Author)
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,
And the Master who gently said,
"Child, you must wait."
"Wait You say wait!" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is Your hand shortened?
Or have You not heard?
By faith, I have asked, and am claiming Your Word"
My future and all to which I can relate
Hangs in the balance, and You tell me to Wait?
I'm needing a 'yes' a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign."
And Lord, You promised that if we believe
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I've been asking and this is my cry;
I'm weary of asking . . . I need a reply!"
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate.
As my Master replied once again, "You must wait."
So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and tout
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting . . . for what?"
He seemed, then to kneel, and His eyes wept with mine,
And he tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the Heavens and darken the Sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
"All you seek I could give and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint;
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence were all you could see.
"You'd never experience that fullness of love
As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove;
You'd know that I live and I save . . . for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
"The glow of My comfort late into the night.
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked
Of an infinite God, who makes what you have last.
"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that, 'My grace is sufficient for Thee.'
Yes, your dreams for your loved one overnight would come true,
But, Oh the loss! If I lost what I'm doing to you!
"So be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me
And though oft may My answers seem terribly late
My most precious answer of all is still, 'Wait!'"
"Tears are the silent language of grief"
(French Proverb)
"Jesus wept."
John 11:35 NASB
