Hurry Up and Wait
We have all heard the familiar phrase, "Hurry up and wait." It is one of those paradoxes that is both humorous and maddening. We are told to move with urgency, only to find ourselves standing still. We race to arrive, only to discover that arriving simply means waiting.
Patience, after all, is not something we usually associate with haste. When we are waiting for test results, a job offer, a phone call, healing, or the answer to a long-prayed prayer, the last thing we want to hear is, "Just wait a little longer." Yet the Christian life is filled with exactly that command. Again and again, God calls His people not merely to wait, but to wait faithfully.
The Christian life is full of saintly waiting. St. Francis de Sales goes so far as to say that "the greatest happiness of any one is to possess his soul; and the more perfect our patience, the more fully we do so possess our souls." Waiting, then, is not merely about enduring time. It is about learning to master ourselves while we entrust time to God.
At first glance, that may sound like a strange expression. How can we possess something that is already ours? Yet anyone who has struggled with impatience knows exactly what he means. God gave man reason and free will so that he might govern his passions rather than be governed by them. The impatient man gradually surrenders that governance. He is ruled by his circumstances, by every exterior force that acts upon him. His peace rises and falls with every inconvenience. A delayed flight steals his joy. A traffic jam robs him of his composure. Anger dictates his words. Anxiety directs his thoughts. Frustration determines his actions. Rather than possessing his soul, his soul is possessed by whatever trial happens to confront him. Patience, then, is not merely waiting. It is the quiet mastery of oneself while entrusting the outcome to God.
This is why St. Francis makes another observation that cuts straight to the heart. Many of us imagine that, if called upon, we would heroically endure extraordinary sufferings. We picture ourselves standing firm before persecutors, bravely accepting imprisonment, or even embracing martyrdom for Christ. Yet the true measure of our patience is usually found elsewhere. We grow irritated by the slow cashier at the grocery store. We grumble when the person ahead of us drives below the speed limit. We become impatient when someone repeats the same story, when the internet is slow, or when our plans are interrupted. We dream of being saints in the great trials while failing to be saints in the little ones. But it is often these ordinary moments, repeated day after day, that God uses to train the heart. If we cannot patiently bear the small crosses He places before us today, why should we presume we are prepared for the larger ones tomorrow?
Our Lord Himself shows us this. His greatest act of patience was not confined to the three hours He hung upon the Cross. Calvary was the culmination of a lifetime of patient endurance. He patiently bore misunderstanding from His own disciples. He endured mockery from His enemies, interruptions from the crowds, and constant demands upon His time. He waited for the hour appointed by His Father, never rushing ahead of the Father's will and never shrinking back from it. Christ did not simply teach patience. He lived it.
This pattern runs throughout the whole of Scripture. Abraham waited decades for the son God had promised. Joseph waited through slavery and imprisonment before being raised up to save nations. David was anointed king while still a shepherd boy, yet spent years fleeing Saul before ever wearing the crown. Israel waited centuries for deliverance from Egypt and generations more for the coming of the Messiah. Simeon and Anna waited a lifetime for the consolation of Israel. Even after the Resurrection, Christ commanded His Apostles not to rush into their mission but to remain in Jerusalem until they were clothed with power from on high at Pentecost.
Every major work of God seems to begin with waiting.
Perhaps that is because waiting is one of God's favorite classrooms. It is there that He teaches us whether we truly trust Him or merely trust our own plans. It is there that faith is refined, hope is strengthened, and love is purified. Isaiah understood this when he wrote, "They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles" (Isaiah 40:31). Waiting upon the Lord is never passive resignation. It is active confidence that His timing is wiser than our own.
We spend much of our lives trying to escape the waiting room. God spends much of our lives teaching us there. So hurry when God calls you to act. Run the race set before you with perseverance. But when He asks you to wait, wait faithfully. For the soul that learns to wait upon the Lord is a soul that has finally learned to possess itself—and, in possessing itself, is finally free to belong completely to Him.
