Living in the Not Yet

In the early morning, before the dawn had whispered hello, before the stillness of the night was changed to the hum of the day, I awoke. In my mind, and my heart, were friends who this week have experienced the agony of “hope deferred”. That place of living in the “not yet” which holds disappointment, anger, questions that have no answers and tears that come from the soul retreating to desert places. Abba has chosen to leave some of these questions unanswered, yet my heart still asks for the dreams, for the why, or for the why not. Maybe it is because the thought of my questions and of my dreams slipping into insignificance with the Almighty feels like a betrayal of “hope”.

My thoughts today were of those I know who have in this past week have had to move into the desert of “not yet”.
- the little one conceived, unnamed, yet in Abba’s image, whose little heartbeat stopped much to early, and whose face you never saw. My friends you had waited so long for this moment, and hope deferred is breaking your hearts. I am so sorry.
- Another who has longed for a partner and the joy of a tentative new beginning has been “deferred”. You have so hoped for change, struggled with believing in your beauty and worth and this is a deep wound. You are still worth it, you are still beautiful. I am so sorry you must still wait in the “not yet” for what your heart longs for.
- A simple comment yesterday to another as she held someone’s child in her arms. This couple have so bravely lived in the “not yet” of being parents and their courage to embrace what has been placed in their hands now astounds me. You have lived with so much of “hope deferred” and the tenderness that has grown in the garden of disappointment is incredible. I am sorry for your pain but in that you have nurtured me in the birthing of story.
- In another “not yet” I have seen your heart long for your invitation to dance to be responded to. I am sorry for the angst in the place of waiting for the response.
- For Bobbie and Liam who wait for the Kingdom appointment that brings new, amazing freedom in their calling. I am sorry for the pain of waiting in this place.
- Those stories you shared with me of the “not yet” waiting room for the redemption of just that one particular story – I am sorry for the waiting and so admire your courage for continuing to seek redemption.
- For those of us who wait in the “not yet” to be chosen, I understand your pain too.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick”, and “unrelenting disappointment leaves you heartsick” as Eugene Peterson translates this Proverb.

Hope has often been a four letter word in my life - hope and shit seemed to have the same stench. I don’t apologize for using this word because it is the most descriptive for the stench of refuse, of the unwanted, unusable. And at times hope can be defined no other way. My question to Abba this last week was for a redefining of hope. What I saw was that hope, without shame, is like the lingering delicate scent of freesias. Their scent is similar to the comforting aroma of a fresh cup of black tea, with bergamot. A pot of tea, that can refill cup after cup as you sit by the window in the morning watching the day arrive, legs curled up under you, letting this waking time gently unfold. It is like wrapping my hands around my beautiful china cup steaming and full of tea in the evening, pondering the unexpected or the unexplained of the day. Often I have put hope in an event but in this redefining perhaps hope is simply the expectation and the wonder of the unexplainable. Could it be hope and the “not yet” are entwined in a way that makes us always long for the redemption of the story as we live it without shame?

This morning I sat in hope, and brought you there with me.

It is only with the heart that one can see rightly …what is essential is invisible to the eye.
Saint Exupery