Maybe it’s a girl thing. Wanting to throw a little tantrum, I mean. Wanting to give God a deadline to sort it out. Wanting to force his hand. Wanting to tell him that if he didn’t sort it out within seven days, then I would stop fighting this one and stop believing the promise.
But when it crossed my mind earlier, I knew straightaway that I wasn’t going to try that line on God.
A few years ago and it might even have worked. He has this way of responding to the naively bold ultimata (is that really the plural I have to use here?!) of new-ish Christians, a way of disarming us with his undeserved kindness. At times, and I know because I experienced this many years ago, the immediacy of his previously-unforthcoming response can seem almost like a reward for straight-talking (and not always very polite!) honesty.
But today I knew it wasn’t going to wash. Quite apart from it being a bit on the stroppy side for an interaction with the Maker of the universe, I knew that it would fail for a different reason.
It would fail because if he didn’t fix it within whatever deadline I came up with, I still knew that I wouldn’t walk away. Not from him and therefore not from this thing he has promised but has yet to give me.
And so I had to laugh.
Because what do you do when you know you won’t walk away? You’re kind of stuck. In the best possible way, but still stuck. And, in that place, there are no options for working it out other than staying still and waiting.
Just like he always wanted me to.