Learning Patience Waiting for God's Time

I worked for League City United Methodist Church for over six years after I left the corporate world. I dearly loved working there. The people became my extended family, and I still hold close ties to them. We had a staff change one year and a new senior pastor arrived. The first staff meeting was called. The new minister presented several items and then informed us that we were going to rotate giving a devotional each week at staff meetings. My toes curled. My panties twisted into a wad. I melted right in front of everyone's eyes. I can sing in front of hundreds. I can play the instruments with boldness and vigor for any size audience. Just don't ask me to pray out loud. Now I have to come up with a devotional? I simply did not have time to sit and study for this torture. As I virtually writhed in agony the pastor noticed my discomfort and suggested I write something that fit close to home, like a personal experience.

Devotional from the Office
Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I am God!”
You can guess the look on the staff faces as I opened with the line: Every morning I gather my Bible, my coffee and my reading glasses and sit down for a few moments of quiet time with the Lord. The staff dove for cover in fear of the impending lightening strike.

Yeah, I do a devotional every morning. . . . NOT!!! Hey, it’s Cheryl from the church office we’re talking about. Quiet, not. Still, not. Devoting time to the Lord like I should, not. For those of you who don’t know me, I am the hyperactive Type A adult who spends her time trying to fill every moment and space in my day just like I fill cubby-holes in the office - with everything in order; pencils lined up according to length and those with erasers are segregated from those without. Those without erasers will be set aside until I can purchase erasers to place on them and make them whole again. Permanent Markers have their own cubby apart from the Non-permanent markers. There is an exact place for everything. I like things that match, which is I why I was stressed out when some well-meaning soul borrowed the red scissors from my desk - my poor matching stapler was without a mate until I could rectify the situation. I like order, hence, if you are nosey enough during a visit to my home, you will find that I line the canned goods up in orderly groups, all the clothes in my closets hang a specific direction on padded silk hangers [and the hangers are the same, exact color each and every one] and I fold my dirty clothes. Yes, I just admitted to folding my dirty clothes. I must explain that there is a method to my madness. I have 3 laundry hampers. One for dry cleaning. One for blacks/darks/cold wash. One for delicates/lights/warm wash. I fold the clothes simply because you can pack more clothes in the hampers, and with them pre-sorted, half my work is done. Sometimes it is two weeks before I get to do a marathon laundry day. Two Weeks sound like a long time to you??? Not to me. Not when you account for a 1.5 hour round trip drive to work every day, play music on the side, do wedding photography on the side, cook for families on the side, do cake decorating on the side, write poetry seriously, do prom dress and formal sewing on the side, practice my trumpet for fun, write music and have up to three foster dogs [none less than 75 lbs.] in the home to trip over 24/7 complete with Vet trips and feeding schedules. And I am not blowing my own horn….just listing my routine activities.

Now, where was I going with all this? Oh, yeah, my devotional. “Be Still…” that verse ends with an exclamation point in case you didn’t notice. Well, my whole life is an exclamation point. I want to accomplish this! Done! I want to learn that! Done! I want to go back to work after retiring! Done! I want to completely remodel my house! Done! I am ready to return to being an organist in a church! Send the resumes out! Done! I know for a fact that organists are scarcer than hens’ teeth. With all those resumes out, my phone should ring any second now……not.

Ah, yes, there is that line, “In God’s time.” I sat around and said, “Hey, God. I know there are 4 gazillion organs in Houston and about 200 organists. What’s going on here? You blessed my kids with great job opportunities. I said thank you for that, didn’t I? So, what about me? Why isn’t the phone ringing off the wall? I know, I know. Be still……do you know how hard that is for me? God, you know me!!! This is the same Cheryl whose mother went to her 10th grade open house and met the history teacher….their conversation went something like,
Mom, “Hello, I am Mary. I am Cheryl’s mother.”
Mrs. Pate, “Oh, my goodness. She is my favorite student. She’s so quiet, studious and soaks up everything I say.”
Mom, “I meant Cheryl Earles….the redhead.” almost as if she had no clue they were discussing the same girl.

Back to “In God’s Time.” I wait, impatiently of course, and by chance encounter, or maybe it wasn’t, an email zips across my screen. The position of organist at my former church is once again open. My own private pew in church no visitor can threaten to take away from me is available. I have the opportunity to play music for the Lord again, which is truly my personal devotional time. From the whisper of the smallest flute pipes to the rumble of the voices generated by the bass pedals….each note tells God “thank you” for my talent. Each time someone tells me my music lifts their soul is a confirmation that God has blessed me with a gift that I must give back to him and share with others at every opportunity. I have to constantly remind myself - never let the busy pursuits of life so order my life that I fail to take the time to be still and know that he is God. He will speak directly to me if I let him, and he will answer my needs in HIS time and it will be the RIGHT time.