In January I applied to be an adjunct professor of biblical studies in a medium security correctional institute. However, a leadership transition at the university that oversees the prison program meant my application was delayed. When we moved, I had lots of time to wonder on my many trips between our two homes…
Now what do I do?
Moving meant I couldn’t volunteer at the crisis pregnancy center in Milwaukee where I’ve served the last five years. Although I see my surrogate son regularly, I can’t see him weekly now. My personal traveling circus however, though unconventional, does still allow margin for me to serve. But how?
Interestingly, last summer, I had what felt like a Spirit-inspired whisper to rest in 2024. I didn’t have one of my annual discipleship groups planned, and I was a little burned out after publishing two books in 2023. The two seniors I’d been mentoring had left for college. Except for my speaking engagements, everything seemed divinely lined up for a sabbatical. But there was a problem.
I didn’t want to.
So, after we moved, I prayed and waited for God to show me what I should do. Eventually however, I got tired of waiting. It felt irresponsible and lazy. After all, being a servant isn’t about standing around and doing nothing.
This forced season of stillness, however, is teaching me that being a servant is more about listening than doing. It’s showing me I’ve been anxious not because I’m failing to serve my Father, but because I’m failing to submit to Him. I sensed Him inviting me to rest, but instead of listening I rationalized and ran ahead of Him. Waiting is also helping me see that resting is allowing me to do more of what I love most, teaching the Bible, but at a slower, sweeter, less anxious speed.
What is this unwanted season of stillness reminding me? That God’s peace, wisdom, and protection are not only worth, but most often found in,
The wait.