In a Bible study once we used a resource called "Secrets of the Secret Place" by Bob Sorge. (Really a great source of practical tips for improving upon our relationship with God, by improving upon the ways in which we spend time with Him.) Anyway, one chapter was called "The Secret of Waiting." I have found it relevant in nearly every "official" group study I've done since then. We aren't used to waiting anymore. Overnight deliveries. Fast food. Express lanes. It's all quick and fast and done before you know it. And if immediately isn't quite fast enough, bosses want it ten minutes ago, yesterday, or last week.
Well, I've been waiting this week. I guess it's only Tuesday, but it seems like "next Tuesday" already. I went out of town last week to help put on a conference in beautiful Lubbock, Texas (well, if you've been to Lubbock, then you know I'm talking about the hearts of the people here.) On Saturday, I started feeling a little bit "off." No real symptoms I could name other than a hard, but tender knot behind my left ear. Then Sunday morning, my head was hurting and all around my ears - not like an ear infection - but behind and in front of them. And my scalp sort felt like it was sunburned. I left my co-worker to do all of the packing up and spent the day sleeping in my hotel room. (Sorry, Eric!) By the evening, I was certain that I had been dealing with a fever and felt miserable. We tried to find an urgent care clinic, but at 7:00 p.m. on Sunday it looked like an ER was the best bet. My fever registered at 104.5. The triage nurse got me to a room in the ER right away. It was finally determined that I had some sort of skin infection that usually shows up on arms or legs, but mine was on my head and face. I had a bright red "band" across my forehead that made it look like I had been wearing a hat that was too tight. (Of course, that was the obvious visible symptom and the one that caused me the least amount of distress.) After playing the inevitable waiting game in the ER I was admitted to a room. The infection and fever left me so exhausted that I'm pretty sure my friends to brought me to the hospital have some amusing stories to tell. After I was in my room and my friends had left, I woke up needing to use the bathroom. I was so physically exhausted that I passed out on the floor. And then when I came around, I was so mentally exhausted that I didn't even think to pull that cord in the bathroom to call for help!!
The doctors have chosen to treat me with a strong antibiotic that is only available in IV drip form. So I'm waiting to get better. The docs tell me that it is not uncommon for an infection of this type that shows up on the head to require a 5-6 day hospital stay. There is no surgery involved. No invasive procedures. Just waiting. Waiting for the antibiotic to be active in my blood steam. Waiting for the levels to be high enough to safely switch me to an oral medication. Waiting for the redness to subside and for the swelling to go down. (This morning I looked like I had a face and a half because of how swollen my glands were after working so hard at fighting this thing!) But in the days of instant messages and real time status reports, 48 hours has seemed like days on end. Landing in the hospital away from home increases the "feeling" of waiting exponentially. I want to be home with my children and family. But I need to be better first. Waiting for the medication to attack the infection and kill it and get it out of my system, takes time. It won't be rushed. Increasing the medication to make it "work faster" would only be detrimental to my health - not beneficial.
This afternoon and evening, I'm feeling much better. But I know that if I were to get up and act as if I haven't been extremely ill for 2 and half days, I would quickly exhaust any surplus energy I might have. And I'm reminded that the word "wait" has expectation built in. Wishes are for stars and birthday candles. But waiting has hope attached. Hope that what I'm waiting for will actually come to pass. Hope that I will indeed be better and be home soon. Hope that my body will react appropriately to the medication that is so strong it burns in my vein as it is being pumped in.
David tells us in Psalm 27 to "Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." Then Isaiah tells us what happens to those who wait for the Lord that they "will renew their strength." So maybe when my spirit is exhausted to the point of fainting, more works or more study or more prayer even - those just aren't the things that will give me the strength. The strength comes in the waiting. And in whom I choose to wait. In that hopeful expectation of what will come. I don't know how He will chose to reveal that strength. But I want to remember to be watchful and not assume that I'm the one who has the best plan laid out. In the hospital, my choice would have been a pill to swallow that would have me back on my feet in 24 hours. Not the 6-8 dose IV drip that can only be administered once every 12 hours over a 120 minute period.
It's just another reminder to me from Him that I am in a season of waiting. And that's ok. I don't have to have all the answers today. Or tomorrow for that matter. I will be active in my pursuit of His will, but will also remember to wait in His presence. To listen to what He has for me for today.
(Special thanks to my new-found Lubbock friends who have taken the time to hang out with me for some of this waiting time this week!)
