It was Monday night and I was about five minutes from caving to a cozy couch and the remaining pages of my book. Asher was asleep, Michael was at a friends house and the rest of the evening was mine to do as I pleased.
But instead of the glorious vision I daydreamed about as I stood washing the final bubbles from the dishes, I knew in my gut my alter ego was about to appear.
Crazy cleaning lady.
And yes, my prediction came true. The straightening of the kitchen didn’t stop there because who doesn’t love the peaceful vacuum lines in the living room carpet? (You know I’m right). Which of course turned into organizing my office that clearly led to pulling out all shoved in articles carelessly pushed inside my closet which I just had to sort, stack, pitch and rehome that night or I wouldn’t be able to sleep. (It’s a thing). Clearly not the relaxing evening I was anticipating.
As I surrendered to the catharsis that comes when I clean my thoughts began to ping around in my head and heart. I let them wander, allowing myself to process half out loud, half to myself—and all with a whisper of a prayer tagging along my mismatched thoughts.
At this particular moment I was making my way to the sub basement with a fan in my left hand and a space heater in my right (don’t ask me why both were in my office closet because I haven’t the slightest idea) doing a kind of front of the body sweep with each to be 100% certain I wasn’t about to walk into the sticky home of a spider. (I do this every time I walk through our sub basement—someone should record me for entertainment purposes). I placed the heating and cooling elements on the shelf and began to make my way back up the steps toward spidey safety when the one thought that bounced slightly from one wall to another and landed squarely in the “Ah-ha” portion of my brain.
I literally stopped on the wood steps and let the truth settle in.
I had been thinking about what it means to trust in the wait. Specifically, I was thinking about a current longing that has lead to a repetitive prayer these last months. I thought, “What if God answered my prayer tonight?” And subconsciously without a moment’s missed beat I answered my own question, “Then before long they’ll be another prayer I’ll bring to Jesus and He’ll ask me again….Lacey, will you trust Me in this wait?”
Amazing really as I yielded to these thoughts and processed what they meant.
Namely this: No matter WHAT season I’m in, there will be SOMETHING God calls me to release to Him in faith, trust Him and wait.
And if that’s part of His work in my life, to gradually deepen my faith by asking me the question, “Do you trust Me now?” I want my answer to be yes. A whole-hearted, without abandon, resounding yes! And there it was—my God-given perspective.
That this wait right now is strengthening faith muscles for future waits.
It changed the way I viewed my current season. Gave purpose and meaning to it in a new way. I chuckled out loud (I truly did), smiled and bounced up the final three steps to flip off the light.
“Thank you Father,” I spoke out loud so only me, Jesus and the spiders could hear.