The question is one of the first questions we learn to ask. Even before we have a clear concept of time, we want to know, “How long?”

“How long can I play outside?”
”How long until summer?”
”How long until my birthday?”
”How long until I get my driver’s license?”
”How long until I get married?”
”How long until I have children?”
”How long until I can retire?”

The real question is one of endurance. We want to know how long we have to bear the undesirable situation, and ultimately, we are confessing that we take issue with the arrangement.

Read:

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long will I store up anxious concerns within me,
agony in my mind every day?
How long will my enemy dominate me?
Psalm 13:1-2

How long, Lord, must I call for help
and you do not listen
or cry out to you about violence
and you do not save?
Habakkuk 1:2

Asking how long is really demanding to know when the current circumstances will come to an end and how much longer we need to wait until we experience fairer skies. Further, we aren’t creatures prone to considering how much longer we must be forced to bear up under pleasant conditions. Rest assured, when you hear lips asking, “How long?” they are attached to a person who does not like her current circumstances. “How long?” issues forth from a heart in distress.

Waiting is offensive. For one it offends me because it exposes that I am not the center of the universe. I don’t like that. Lines aren’t for me. They’re for other people. For another, it destroys my myth that I am God. When I wait, I am forced to acknowledge the extreme limits of my control and submit myself to His.

Waiting is an interesting tool in the hands of the Maker of time, though. Waiting turns up the heat and applies more pressure. Waiting has a way of wearing me down and forcing me to turn my gaze God-ward. When I finally become acutely aware of my inability to change my circumstances, I turn and cry out to the One who can.

The patriarchs and the prophets at one time or another all uttered some form of this question. Their eyes were searching for immediate relief AND ultimate consolation that would come through the Messiah.

Are you waiting in an unpleasant situation today? Do you feel powerless to change anything and stuck until God decides to unstick you? You’re in good company. It’s okay to feel the grief of the wait. In a way, that’s the point.

Because who looks for a Comforter without needing consolation?

Pray: Jesus, I confess that I don’t like waiting. The agony it creates is unique in that it cannot be cured by anything or anyone but you. Thank you, even still, for making me wait. In waiting, I taste you like I wouldn’t otherwise, and in the end, that’s what I really want.