When Michala was little, every night when I would tuck her in, just as I was leaving her bedroom she would ask me, “Mommy, what’s for breakfast tomorrow?”
Sometimes I had an answer. “French toast!” Or I would say, “Um, how about oatmeal?” Michala did not like to hear “I don’t know” as my response. I think she just liked having something to look forward to, as she fell asleep. Or maybe it was the reassurance of something wonderful waiting for her once the morning arrived.
As Michala got older, she would still ask me this question. Sometimes, I was too exhausted or frustrated with life to have a good response, and would simply reply, “I promise there will be something yummy.” I know my lack of patience with her nightly question probably showed through too many times, but my precious child loved and trusted me, anyway.
Michala’s innocent question each night became almost routine. Every single night she would ask me what was for breakfast the next morning, and every single night I would answer. Even if I did not know exactly what the meal would be, I knew I would make a meal Michala would enjoy.
One morning when she was really little; about three and a half, I was making pancakes for breakfast. Michala stood next to me while I was cooking and told me, “I was waiting all night for pancakes, Mommy!” I thought she was so precious with her excitement. Michala went to sleep wondering what would be for breakfast the next day, and much to her delight, it was her favorite: pancakes.
The past few months, I feel like my prayers to Papa somewhat echo those questions of young Michala about breakfast the next day. I want to know as I fall asleep what exactly is on the menu for the next day? But instead of pancakes, waffles, scrambled eggs or oatmeal; I want to know if the menu will offer healing, normalcy, peace.
“I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry.” - Psalm 40:1 (NLT)
I think there is something to be said about waiting for something wonderful. The anticipation makes us stronger and our faith grows. The anticipation and waiting is what instills hope in our hearts. Hope for what is to come. Hope for something better. Hope for healing. Hope for wonderful.
When we wait for God to help us, He always turns to us and hears our cries for help. It’s the waiting patiently part I know I, for one, struggle with doing well. I want to wait patiently, not wait filled with angst. I want to trust in what I cannot see being what God is preparing. I want to trust in the unknown fears we have, God is still present, protecting us with every breath.
Even when it is hard … even when you cannot see the promise, trust the promise is there. God will help us. He will turn to you when He hears your cry. God’s timing just builds our patience and faith.
It is a work in progress, but I am learning to wait with excitement and patience for God’s timing.