Presence in the waiting

The doctor had just returned our phone call and passed on the news that the numbers remained unchanged. Our hearts clung to the tiny piece of hope yet still our hearts ached. This precious life was holding on…yet only more waiting would reveal if this life would within months be held in our hands or soon be in the hands of our Heavenly Father. That night I offered back up to the Lord the words that He had placed on my heart the very day the day the pain began. “I give this soul back into Your safe hands.”  Worship at its root is not without pain…it is surrender…and praise to the One who holds all things together.         
 

Unbeknownst to me, moments before we received the call, our tender-hearted four year old son, along with his almost twin-brother, spent their rare winter outdoor time picking little yellow flowers for me. It is somewhat of a barren environment, without an abundance of plants, yet they gave of themselves to go through the barren place and find beauty. They seem at times to be unaware of our pain and days of uncertainty, yet moments after hearing this saddening news, he entered my room with these newly plucked flowers. Like our God, this is a love that gives beauty in the midst of heartache. They were instruments of healing for my hurting heart.  


 His tiny hands placed into mine a gift of love. I held them close as a reminder of the heavenly Father’s comfort being poured out in our pain. Even before we received the grim diagnosis the Lord had reminded me just days before that He longs to be gracious, and His compassion is abundant and sure. The Majestic One concerned with even me. Even offering little yellow flowers to ease the pain and offer reassurance that He is hovering over us.

There have been two major moments of heartache as we wait for our sixth, and each one has been met with my child reminding me, to stand in awe, to worship this One. In our children’s complete trust and unlimited joy I am reminded to go again to the hiding place. I find Him there. Every time! We have often been reminded this past week that we are not walking this alone.   So many loved ones throughout the world responded with their concern for this little one and their commitment to prayer. The prayers of others have released a grace and peace that cannot be explained. It is the gift of the body that allows us to rest and stand with strength. 

The days of trials and waiting must be met with pure moments of worship, offering our fresh flowers back to Jesus.  Our words of adoration, songs of praise, and confessions of trust are placed at His scarred feet. There we praise.  We learn to trust that the One who spoke life is worthy of our affection and the most precious of treasures.
 
We see Him there before the throne and our eyes are able to see past the veil and into the eternal. We enter in between the curtains beholding Christ in His glory.

There we worship…

There have been times of scraped knees and failure as we doubt or turn away from truth, but through that we once again experience His wonderful works. It is not our efforts or perfection that victory comes, it is by God’s love and grace that we marvel at promises revealed. Oh, the comfort that comes when the love is poured out even after stumbling and waiting impatiently. There I can rest; knowing that even if my heart wanders, He forgives and removes it as far as the east is from the west. I am loved despite my struggling…then I am able to look back to the Worthy One.

There we worship…

As the sustainer and Maker of all…the lover of our soul…His works and character cause us to press in, to understand more deeply this rich love. This is the wonder of His thick presence in the waiting.

As His presence rested (stayed, dwelt, comforted) on Mount Sinai and filled the Temple and Tabernacle. The cloud was the means to reveal His awesome presence to the chosen ones. As we usher in His presence with our songs and hearts bent in praise and acceptance of brokenness, we welcome the Holy One to overwhelm and fill us with wonder. We wait for His presence to lead us to the next place where we are to pitch our tent. We can trust that He is near.

These moments of waiting are sacred. Life is no longer about the mundane but living out our purpose of resting in His glory as we journey to the land of promise.  There is great anticipation as we wait to see what He will do through this trial. The once barren places of our heart learn to sing even through the wilderness because we have experienced His goodness time and time again. We look to the face of the One who bore all to carry us. There we stand amazed that He has met us.

Worship is not based on a ritual or what the world around us is doing but it is praise to the Maker for His limitless love and majestic works. It is learning to rest. It is surrendering all to Him. Running again to the hiding place and dwelling in the place that He has chosen at this time.

No matter what lies ahead our desire is to-- remain worshipping, experiencing Him in the pain, celebrating life and breathing in His presence as He hovers over us.

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The life within my womb ended days after this was written. This litte ones life was measured in weeks but the Lord's presence was the eternal gift quenching our thirst and leading us to press in. Once again we are reminded to keep eyes fixed on our eternal home when we will once again celebrate this “little legacy” and stand in complete awe before our Savior and Heavenly Father.

Ps 31:5; Isa. 51:12; Deut. 32:11; Isa 63:9; Ps 31:20; 2 Cor. 4; Gen 1:3; Deut 1:31; Heb. 12:2;  

I Kings 8:11; Ex 24:16; Ex 40:34; Heb 4:15-16; 12:1-3