My soul waits for the LORD More than sentinels wait for the dawn. // Psalm 130:5-6ab

My palm started to sweat as I wrapped my hand more tightly around my cell phone and listened for my therapist’s voice on the other end of the line. My heart thrummed insistently against my ribcage, underscoring the crowd of worries running helter-skelter through my mind. I knew that they came from a desire to protect myself but found the task of planning for all contingencies exhausting. I paused, bit my lip, and waited for her to respond. 

What she offered in reply was a simple perspective shift: “Lord, I can’t wait to see how You’re going to figure this out.”  

I received the advice to pray this warily at first, with great skepticism. I imagined myself saying it to God the same way I’d say “good luck” to someone trying to unscrew the lid from a stubborn glass jar that I’d already been attempting to dislodge for ten minutes: “I can’t wait to see how You’re going to figure this one out, because I’ve tried literally everything already.” Psh. 

But so much of my anxiety comes from a place of wanting to save myself, of believing that worrying helps me plan and prepare for the worst, of desiring to ensure I’ll be okay if and when disaster strikes. 

That’s a lot of responsibility to carry. 

Telling the Lord I can’t wait to see how He will move has slowly lifted the responsibility of figuring out my problems from my shoulders, and has shifted my outlook from one of fear to that of joyful expectancy. Now I am a sentinel, or more than a sentinel, keeping a vigilant lookout for the first possible movement of God’s grace and tender provision in the face of uncertainty.

Sister, won’t you keep your eyes turned toward the dawn with me? And together, full of confidence that He will act, we will run to our Savior in the first light of day.

Lord, no matter how dark my world seems, help me to wait for You, trusting that nothing escapes Your notice and that Your gentle care provides for all of my needs. Amen.