We want to see, but faith is “the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1b ESV). Or perhaps I should say “I want to see” because that’s what my circumstances have been revealing to me about myself.
I consider myself to be a woman of faith after so many years
of learning to let go of my problems to God.
I used to be tense and driven and desperate at heart. I was fearful and full of unacknowledged grief. I lived alone even when surrounded by
others. That I should have turned to God
and believed that He was real and could be trusted took faith. The practice of choosing to believe and let
go of my controlling actions, and even thoughts, was the practice of faith in
practical ways. God arranged for the
rubber to meet the road over and over and over.
And yet He’s not finished. There
is a different kind of faith-action that He’s teaching me about. It’s really the faith of inaction, or waiting on the unseen.
This really isn’t new, is it? We often express our faith by waiting for
something we hope for. Maybe we don’t
hope with much assurance or conviction, but we hope, we ask God, and we
wait. Maybe it’s for prodigal children
to turn back toward home, or for remission of an illness, or strength to endure
the decline of a parent.
Sometimes the “hope” can be more like wishful
thinking. And the “waiting” can be an
escape from realities that must be faced before real change can occur. But God says true hope has substance and
reality as if what is unseen is already there.
And when we have that what we hope in becomes invincible.
If we have no evidence in the circumstances, no substance
of what we long for in our world, no conviction in our heart of truth that
defies the obvious external reality, then true Biblical faith gives us
evidence and conviction. It allows us to
see what remains unseen.
This is the faith I desire to grow in right now for an
important relationship. There seems to
be no more action to take on my part.
There are no right words to say that will open up understanding. There is just God’s very precious answer to
my cries, saying “Let me handle it”.
When everything in me wants to do something or say something or
even think something that will fix it or relieve it, His word to me is
clear. He will handle it, and I am to
let Him.
And so that’s where waiting comes in. Waiting on the Lord is not helplessness, it
is powerful. It is the faith that may
witness the moving of mountains. It is
being held in the strong heart of God while He does things that no human being
can accomplish.
Zion National Park |
But this is where we can falter, because we can’t always
know or understand His will or purpose.
We can know He is good and that He promises the work all things
together for good (Romans 8:28), but we don’t know what it will look
like.
Hebrews 11:13 reminds me that Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob “all died in faith, not having received the things promised,
but having seen them and greeted them from afar”. All the heroes of the faith commended in the
verses that follow were looking ahead to the promise of Christ. He was unseen to them in the future and he is
unseen to us in the past. But he always
existed and is always real.
I sense God calling me to join hands with those who “lived
in tents” while they looked forward to "a city with foundations whose designer
and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:9-10); those who “acknowledged that they were
strangers and exiles on earth” and “desire a better country, that is a heavenly
one.” (verses 13 & 16).
This is not to say that the relationship I long for will not
come to be in my lifetime, but it is not a guarantee that it will happen as I
expect, and it is not the basis for the peace I seek in waiting on God to “handle
it”.
I want my peace to be filled with the faith to love
rather than self-protection, self-justification or anger. God offers to hold my heart and hold my hand
as I wait with Him and for Him. This is
hard and yet a glorious opportunity. Is
what God is doing more valuable than what I want to see and have now? I believe, but help my unbelief. I am waiting.