I wrote the following post several years ago. I was reminded of it this morning, as I saw the full moon brilliant in its descent at the break of dawn. I thought I would share this post again. Waiting is one of the most hopeful things we do. What are you waiting for?
I went to to see the light. I went to see the biggest, brightest full moon of my lifetime. So I went early, not to miss its earliest ascent over the water, expecting an orange globe rising as a brilliant but final ember in the black autumn sky. I arrived, I waited, camera in hand, with hopeful expectancy for the moment to arrive.
I did not find a moon. Just a thick heavy bank of low, laying clouds blotting out the moment in a matte gray finish. The horizon diminished into the indigo night, taking the bank of clouds with it, so that it was difficult to tell whether a moon would rise over them at all. But I was hopeful. I waited expectantly. I wanted to see the light.
Waiting is a hopeful thing. One does not wait on an outcome that is impossible. To wait is to expect possibility. More than that – possibilities of value and worth. Expecting less than that, or nothing at all, warrants quitting. So we wait, believing in the good to come. But the discipline of waiting delivers so much more than the valued expected outcome. It changes perspective, and something beautiful comes into view – it is called hope.
That is how I sat and gazed into the night sky, wondering about waiting. And while I did, I became absorbed in the delicate formations of the clouds, still shrouding the moon, but rising and dancing around it – swirling their translucent veils over its naked light. I could only see their beauty because of the light they concealed. They became the harbingers of the light. They affirmed the light . I could see the light through them, even if I could not see the object of the light. The more I saw their ethereal edges, the more I saw that the light would eventually transgress them.They encouraged me to wait some more, now more hopeful that the light would come in its full glory. To see the light, I had to stay right where I was.
How like our lives is the autumnal sky. I encourage all who wait in the shadow of a cloud, wondering, hoping, expecting the Light to break through. It does. He will. In fact, He is already here. Wait a little more, and be absorbed in the beauty that is the advent of Jesus’ coming.
“When the Perfect comes, the partial will pass away. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face”. I Corinthians 13:12
“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it”.
“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:18