By My Side

 June 26, 2021

It’s been a busy day. After cleaning up the branches we trimmed from our trees yesterday, our Cuban friend Willie and his driver Matt spent the day with us. We talked of the ministry in Cuba, of the dire straits in which Cubans find themselves due to the pandemic, of what part we have to play in all of it. After dinner with our friends Beth and Harry, it was time for Willie and Matt to leave, and just like that, the day was over. 

When I retired, I fully expected to be spending more time in Cuba. Plans were in the works to make two or three extended trips per year, but one roadblock after another cropped up. First, Willie had to come to the states for an extended period of time—two full years between trips. Then my friend and Cuban mentor Joel, who organized our trips and encouraged me to step out on my own down there, died, followed by COVID hitting both here and there. We were inconvenienced by it; Cuba was devastated, and the borders remain pretty much closed. 

So here I am, seven years into retirement and no closer to my retirement goals than the day I stepped down from the pulpit that last time. It’s unsettling to feel adrift, but that’s where I am.In years gone by, I would have thrown in the towel, thinking I had misread God’s plans. Tonight, I’m thinking instead that I’m being tested to see how much I want it. Abraham waited fifteen years between first hearing God’s promise and hearing baby Isaac cry. Joseph languished in an Egyptian prison for perhaps seventeen years before becoming vice-regent to pharaoh. Moses wandered the deserts of Midian for forty years before the bush burned, and even the great apostle Paul spent years in the desert learning to hear God’s voice before he exploded on the ancient world with heart afire with the Gospel. So I’m in good company, and can wait. 

When reading the Bible, we are seeing the highlights of people’s lives. Answered prayers are recorded, but we must dig if we are to discern the waiting that brought the answers. So tonight after everyone had left, I sat on the swing in the dusk, drinking in the coolness of the evening and watching the light fade. Linda came and sat by my side, offering the gift of silent presence. I talked; she listened, and we sat silently. I still don’t have the answers I’m looking for; sometimes I’m not even sure I know the questions, but I have by my side someone who is willing to wait with me for a message not meant for her. This is a precious gift straight from the Father’s heart, and for it, I am deeply thankful tonight.