This morning I read Psalm 5

1 Give ear to my words, O LORD,
       consider my sighing.

 2 Listen to my cry for help,
       my King and my God,
       for to you I pray.

 3 In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice;
       in the morning I lay my requests before you
       and wait in expectation.

Then, this evening, I had the privelege of hearing my friend Jon’s thoughts on same.  He shared from a version which instead of wait in expectation said eagerly watch.

In talking, he shared an interesting metaphor of a pregnant woman . . . waiting eagerly, fully expecting that at the end of nine months, she would have a baby.  She isn’t sure exactly when.  She may not know the sex.  She isn’t sure what the baby will look like or how much it will weigh.  But at the end of nine months the baby she is expecting will arrive.  He went on to say that we should expect with the same eagerness that God will act.

And it made me think about expecting things from God.  On the one hand, we should expect, we are to hope, to watch eagerly.  But, sometimes, I think that we confuse expectation with entitlement.  And our prayers take on that type of flavor – This is what you promised, God, so I’m waiting for it . . . still . . . um, waiting . . . when are you going to do what you promised, God?

And my mind goes back to a certain pregnant lady (yes, it’s me), who prayed for a child, begged God in fact. 

After almost 2 years, on a Sunday in January 1992, I became pregnant.  (yes, I know the day – someday I’ll tell you that story).  And all was joy and expectation.  And I prayed for the next nine months for that baby, expecting good things, expecting normal things, expecting the . . . well, the baby experience, expecting God’s blessing.

And then . . .

the unexpected . . . seizures, wheelchairs, orthotics, doctors, specialists, therapy . . . wasn’t God listening?

And I kept asking for a different answer, kept bringing my request before God (that’s what it says, right?), for the next 14+ years.  And because I had a circumscribed notion of what I was expecting – I missed the beauty of the gift given to me.  Because I was expecting a certain mommy experience, it’s taken me almost 15 years to begin to appreciate the precious gift God has given me in my son.

Finally I’m realizing, this is the answer.  This is my blessing.  This is not just God’s will for me, but, somehow, in a way I don’t understand, it’s the expression of God’s love for me.  It is God’s best for me.  Somehow, it’s immeasurably more than all [I can] ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). 

And my prayer has changed.  Instead of asking God to heal my son, I am asking Him to heal me so that I can serve Him by serving my family with love and faithfulness and joy, so that I can serve those around me with love and faithfulness and joy.  I’m asking Him for opportunities to help people every day so that I can be His true daughter.  And I’m watching . . . eagerly . . .