I stood beside a long and bare banquet table. The Lord stood on the other side. I lowered my head and said to him, “I’m disappointed in the waiting. I’ve not seen the fulfillment of some promises I thought you’d given me. Maybe I got it wrong; maybe I misunderstood you.” I lingered in the pause, then said with action, “But I will still serve you and I will still praise you! You are still God.” I then proceeded to lay everything I had on that banquet table. Some were in tidy little packages, while some were complete messes. All these I gave up, filling the table, were things such as my perceived timetables, my dreams, my hopes and visions for the future; empty expectations of what I thought were imminently assured divine appointments or alignments. What I thought the Lord spoke to me about new seasons and new directions; new conditions, healings, and circumstances I’d expected to come to pass by now… all the snaggles, disappointments—everything. It was an intense flurry of surrender. When I’d finished, all fell quiet.
I then looked at the Lord. He’d taken everything I’d offered and had cleared the table. Then lovingly and with a gentle smile, he wrote words down on a crumpled piece of paper I’d recognized as something I’d torn and thrown into the trash a half of a dozen times in my bouts of doubts and frustrations. He slid it toward me. “What’s this?” I asked, as I glanced at what he’d written. It was a revealed highlight on something that he’d once promised me, a highest hope that has yet to be fulfilled; an umbrella under which all else would base. Then I noticed two other things on the table alongside the slip of paper. They went together.
The Lord didn’t speak, only smiled compassionately, yet I heard his voice: “My timeline is not your timeline, but my promises never go unfulfilled. Never. Sometimes, a process of transformation is needed for callings and dreams to flourish. And remember, you’re not the only one in my lineup. When you’ve sensed no movement in your times of waiting, felt stuck even, I’ve still been moving, an undercurrent—positioning things in your favor for the time, my appointed time, for the day of delivery and expansion. The impossible I will make possible.” There was such love flowing from his side of the banquet table toward me that the words of Song of Songs 2:1 began sweeping over me: I am truly his rose, the very theme of his song. I’m overshadowed by his love, growing in the valley! Humbled and grateful, I worshipped him and was filled with peace.
I realized that if God has promised you something, the blessing meant for your good will come to pass. Yet, even if it didn’t in human terms, he is still God and his indescribable love is greater than anything we could want, need, or imagine.
This was a dream I’d had a while back. This last week, though, I’ve been reminded of it again and again, so I thought maybe others might benefit from reading about it. Perhaps it’s something someone else might need to hear today. I hope this entry encourages you.
“Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” (Habakkuk 3:17-18 ESV)
is a storyteller, and a transcript editor. She's also a Romans 8:28 kind of Jewish girl ...