1 comment | published by Linda | February 09, 2010
Psalm 16:11
"You will show me the path of life; In your presence is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore."

He waits for me. It makes no difference to him if he is cold, tired, or the last to leave, he waits for me. At such a young age, he is already quite the gentleman.

As I reach through the car for my purse and my jacket knowing that the others have already run inside, I notice my little man that has once again waited for me. As I thank him for his loyalty, and companionship toward me, he consistently responds, "I will always wait for you Mommy, because I like you." For him, my presence is more valuable than rushing anywhere, leaving me behind.

As with most mom's, I am the last to leave the home, and the last to leave the car at the end of the journey. So many items to collect, light switches to turn off, and doors to check that postpone my departure for those extra moments. For him, to hold my hand, and to walk with me is what matters. Where we are headed is irrelevant. Therefore, he waits.

When I take the time to acknowledge the Holy presence that surrounds me, and I focus on Him, I can attain fullness of joy. When my destination and my schedule become paramount, my joy fades as my priorities have slipped. Far better it would be for me to wait for my Lord in quietness, to be still, and wait even when everyone around me is in a hurry, to find stillness there. 

God's plan for my life is not always fast. There are things He needs to do, and have done first, although I might not understand. I want to always have the patience my little son has, as he stands and waits for me, knowing that what matters to him is remaining in my presence. I can learn from his desire, of the need in me to consistently stand in my Lord's presence. Our destination is irrelevant, as long as we are together. Therefore, I wait.
Posted in Play Room    |   Tags: He Waits for Me

jwicks
February 11, 2010
Precious. I can just picture it. and I like the application.

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