The Agony of Waiting

A family trip to a Costa Rican beach at the age of eight carries memories of Dad's injuries on a reef while snorkeling, my sister burnt pink and my brush with death. My friends and I swam in the waves as moms chatted on the beach. When suddenly a mighty force sucked me down and away from safety. I clamored in the dark, breath escaping, terror on every side. Then, clasp... A rock fills my small hands as the water rushed past. And as suddenly as I was pulled away, the ocean catapulted me in summersaults toward the beach. Choking for air, I stumbled towards my mother, exclaiming my brush with death. She murmured "Uh-huh" in that characteristic Mommy-distracted way. Even though my rescue went unnoticed, I scampered on with full assurance that God had saved me; and He knew it, too.

So, yesterday, I faced another grueling day of waiting. Waves of unknown possibilities raced past me as I clamored the minutes for reassurance and hope. Then His words, written for me, said, "I am your rock". Safety. But, can I trust God's safety? Life is hard, scary and the promise of Paradise is not for this life. Can I hold on? Or will I be washed away by this sea of darkness?

Then a reminder, a rock of promise cupping my hands. The image of a guiltless man dying in agony on a cross, waiting... Waiting for the end. But, this savior, my savior, faced his darkness with no Savior. His father would not rescue him, but instead rejected him in disgust. The sky turned dark, and as the waves of death pull Jesus, he let go and did not reach for safety. He cried in agony to his father, but still let the waves take him. God, his father, did not give him a rock. He let him die.

Father and son waited in agony for three days. Separated. Then a catapult. The Father grabbed is lifeless son and took him to shore, completely restored. This resurrection became the promise for me, my family, and any who will believe that God overcame death. The great terrors and despairs of this world will not take me out to sea and leave me there alone. Unlike Jesus, the Father, has given me a rock. Salvation. If I believe that Jesus died for me, that someone with the power over death really made a way for me to escape eternal, terror-filled darkness, then I will reach Paradise.


This promise of blissful rest became food for the day; a taste of Paradise. No matter how hard my waiting, it will never be like the waiting of Jesus on the cross. What strong love; compelling me to live in grateful hope, as God continues rescuing my frightened mind endless images of Paradise.