Waiting
The head cupbearer told his dream to Joseph: “In my dream there was a vine in front of me with three branches on it: It budded, blossomed, and the clusters ripened into grapes. I was holding Pharaoh’s cup; I took the grapes, squeezed them into Pharaoh’s cup, and gave the cup to Pharaoh.” Joseph said, “Here’s the meaning. The three branches are three days. Within three days, Pharaoh will get you out of here and put you back to your old work—you’ll be giving Pharaoh his cup just as you used to do when you were his cupbearer. Only remember me when things are going well with you again—tell Pharaoh about me and get me out of this place. I was kidnapped from the land of the Hebrews. And since I’ve been here, I’ve done nothing to deserve being put in this hole.” But the head cupbearer never gave Joseph another thought; he forgot all about him …. Two years passed and Pharaoh had a dream…. (Gen. 39:9-15; 23; 40:1)
There I was, sitting in the waiting room. The receptionist took my name, got my insurance information and motioned to a chair. "Have a seat; we’ll call you when the doctor’s ready." I took a look around – a mother holding a sleeping baby; a fellow thumbing through Sports Illustrated; a woman with her iPhone, looking at the clock overhead, sighing and continuing the task of the hour: waiting.
The waiting room. Not the examination room – that’s down the hall. Not the consultation room – that’s on the other side of the wall. Not the treatment room – exams, consultations and treatments all come later. The task at hand is the name of the room: the waiting room. And those who are seated know the assignment: to wait. We don't treat each other. For instance, I don't ask the nurse for a stethoscope or blood pressure cuff. I don't pull up a chair next to the jock reading Sports Illustrated and say, "So tell me, what prescriptions are you taking?" That's the job of the nurse. My job is to wait. So I do, but I can’t say that I like it very much. I don’t think many people do. In fact, just look around you. Oh, you can’t – you’re in Coronavirus quarantine self-isolating and remaining socially distanced. Waiting.
Time moves at a glacial pace. The clock ticks every five minutes, not every second; it’s like someone pressed the pause button. Life in slow-motion. We don't like to wait. We’re the giddy-up generation. We weave through traffic, looking for the faster lane. We fume at the person who takes eleven items into the ten-item express checkout that’s standing right in front of us. We drum our fingers while the song downloads, or the microwave heats our coffee. "Come on, come on." We want six-pack abs in ten minutes, and minute rice in thirty seconds. We don't like to wait – not on the doctor; not on the traffic; not on the pizza. Not even on God.
Look around you – even if you’re sheltering in place. Where are you seated? This planet is God's waiting room. The young couple in the corner? They’re waiting to get pregnant. The fellow with the briefcase? He has resumes all over the country, waiting on work. The elderly woman with the cane? A widow, waiting a year for just one tearless day. Waiting. Waiting on God to give; God to help; God to heal. Waiting on God to come. We dwell in the land between prayers offered and prayers answered. The land of waiting. And if anyone knew the furniture in God's waiting room, Joseph certainly did.
Unfortunately, the problem with reading his story is its brevity. You can read the Genesis account of Joseph from start to finish in less than an hour, which gives the impression that all of his challenges took place before breakfast one morning. We'd be better off if we’d pace our reading over, let’s say, 20 years. Take chapter 37 into a dry cistern, and sit there for a couple of hours while the sun beats down. Recite the first verse of chapter 39 over and over for a couple of months: "Now Joseph had been taken down to Egypt." Joseph needed at least that much time to walk the 750 miles from Dothan to Thebes. Don’t forget the days, or even weeks on the auction block. Add to that a decade, likely, in Potiphar's house supervising the servants, doing his master's bidding, and learning Egyptian. Tick tock. Tick tock. Time moves slowly in a foreign land. And time stands still when you’re sitting in prison.
Joseph had asked the butler to put in a good word for him. "Remember me when things are going well with you again — tell Pharaoh about me and get me out of this place. I was kidnapped from the land of the Hebrews. And since I’ve been here, I’ve done nothing to deserve being put in this hole." (Gen. 40:14-15) And you can almost hear the butler’s giddy reply after he got news of his impending pardon, "Of course I’ll mention you to Pharaoh! First chance I get. You'll be hearing from me; I promise!" So, on the heels of the butler’s quick assurances, Joseph hurried back to his cell and started packing. He wanted to be ready when the call came. A day passed. Then two. Then a week. A month. Six months. Nothing. As it turned out, “ . . . the head cupbearer never gave Joseph another thought; he forgot all about him.” (Gen. 40:23) In your Bible, the space between that verse and the next is scarcely wider than a hair ribbon. It takes your eyes only a split second to see it. Yet it took Joseph two years to experience it. Chapter 41, which follows Gen. 40:23, starts like this: Two years passed and Pharaoh had a dream. . . .
Two years. 24 months of silence. 104 weeks of waiting. 730 days of wondering. 2,190 meals alone. 17,520 hours of listening for God, yet hearing nothing but crickets. Plenty of time to grow bitter, cynical and angry. People have given up on God for lesser reasons, and in a lot less time. But not Joseph. On a day that began like any other, he heard a stirring at the dungeon entrance. Loud, impatient voices demanding, "We’re here for the Hebrew! Pharaoh wants the Hebrew!" Joseph looked up from his corner to see the prison master, white-faced and stammering. "Get up! Hurry, get up!" Two guards from the court were on his heels. Joseph remembered them from his days as Potiphar's lieutenant. They took him by the elbows and marched him out of the hole, walked him across a courtyard into a room where attendants removed his soiled clothing, washed his body and shaved his beard. They dressed him in a white robe and new sandals. The guards reappeared and walked him into the throne room.
The king hadn't slept well the night before. Dreams had troubled his rest. "They say you can interpret dreams. Can you help me?" Now Joseph's last two encounters hadn't ended so well: Mrs. Potiphar lied about him, and the butler forgot about him. In both cases Joseph had mentioned God. So, maybe he should hedge his bets and keep his faith under wraps. But he didn't. "Not I, but God. God will set Pharaoh's mind at ease." (Gen 41:16) Joseph emerged from his prison cell bragging on God. Jail time didn't devastate his faith; it deepened it. And you? You aren't in prison, but you may be infertile, or inactive, or in quarantine, or in search of health, help, a house or a spouse. Are you in God's waiting room? If so, here’s what you need to know: while you wait, God works. "My Father is always at his work," Jesus said. (John 5:17) God never twiddles his thumbs. He rested on the seventh day but got back to work on the eighth and hasn't stopped since. Just because you’re idle, don't assume God is.
Joseph's story appeared to stall out in chapter 40 – our hero was in shackles; the train was off the tracks; history was in a holding pattern. But while Joseph was waiting, God was working as he assembled the characters. God placed the butler in Joseph's care. He stirred the sleep of the king with odd dreams. He confused Pharaoh's counselors. And at just the right time, God called Joseph to duty. And God’s working for you as well. "Be still, and know that I am God," reads the sign in God's waiting room. (Psalm 46:10) You can be still because he’s active. You can rest because he’s busy.
Remember God's word through Moses to the Israelites? "Do not be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord . . . The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace." (Ex. 14:13-14) The Israelites saw the Red Sea ahead of them and heard the Egyptian soldiers thundering behind them. Death – coming or going. “Stand still? Are you kidding me?” But what the former slaves couldn't see was the hand of God at the bottom of the sea, creating a path, and his breath from heaven, separating the waters. God was working for them.
God worked for Mary, the mother of Jesus, too. The angel told her that she would become pregnant. The announcement stirred a torrent of questions in her heart. How would she become pregnant? What would people think? What would Joseph say? Yet God was working for her. He sent a message to Joseph, her fiancé. God prompted Caesar to declare a census. God led the family to Bethlehem. "God is always at work for the good of everyone who loves him." (Rom. 8:28)
To “wait,” biblically speaking, is not to assume the worst, or worry, fret, make demands or take control. Nor is waiting inactivity. Waiting is a sustained effort to stay focused on God through prayer and belief. To wait is to "rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him; do not fret . . . ," David said. (Ps. 37:7)
Nehemiah shows us how to wait. His book is a memoir of his efforts to reconstruct the walls of Jerusalem. His story starts with a date: "It happened in the month of Chislev, in the twentieth year, as I was in Susa the citadel, that Hanani . . . came with certain men from Judah." (Neh. 1:1-2) These men brought bad news – hostile forces had flattened the walls that had once guarded the city. Even the gates had been torched. The few remaining Jews were in "great trouble and shame." (Neh.1:3)
Nehemiah responded with prayer. "O Lord, let your ear be attentive to the prayer of your servant . . . and give success to your servant today, and grant him mercy in the sight of this man." (Neh. 1:11) "This man," by the way, was King Artaxerxes, the monarch of Persia. Nehemiah was his personal cupbearer – on call twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. So, Nehemiah couldn’t just leave his post and go to Jerusalem. Even if he could, he had no resources with which to rebuild the walls. So he resolved to wait on the Lord in prayer.
The first verse of the second chapter of his memoir reveals the length of that wait. "And it came to pass in the month of Nisan" that Nehemiah was appointed a spot on the king's Jerusalem Commission. How far apart were the dates? Four months. Nehemiah's request, remember, was for an immediate answer, i.e., "Give your servant success today." God answered the request four months later. Waiting is easier read than done. I know, because it doesn't come easily for me.
I've been in a hurry my whole life. Hurrying to finish assignments; pedaling faster; driving quicker. I wonder if I could have obeyed God's command to keep the Sabbath holy – to slow life to a crawl for 24 hours. The Sabbath was created for frantic souls like me, people who need a weekly reminder that the world will not stop if I do. The past 82 days have been, if anything, proof of that.
And this seems timely: "Three times a year all your men are to appear before the Sovereign Lord, the God of Israel. I will drive out nations before you and enlarge your territory, and no one will covet your land when you go up three times each year to appear before the Lord your God." (Ex. 34:23-24) God instructed the Promised Land settlers to stop their work three times a year and gather for worship. All commerce, education, government and industry came to a halt while the people assembled. Can you imagine that happening today? Maybe you can, given current events, since we need more prayer, not less. Yet God promised to protect the Israelites’ territory. No one would encroach upon them. What's more, they wouldn't even desire to do so: "No one will covet your land." God used the pilgrimage to teach this principle: if you will wait in worship, I will work for you.
Daniel waited. In one of the most dramatic examples of waiting in the Bible, Daniel kept his mind on God for an extended period. His people had been oppressed for almost 70 years. Daniel entered into a time of prayer on their behalf. For 21 days he ate only “… plain and simple food, no seasoning or meat or wine.” (Dan. 10:3) He labored in prayer. He persisted and pleaded. No response. Then on the 22nd day – a breakthrough. An angel of God appeared and revealed to Daniel the reason for the delay. Daniel's prayer was heard the moment it was offered. The angel was dispatched with a response. "That very day I was sent here to meet you. But for twenty-one days the mighty Evil Spirit who overrules the kingdom of Persia blocked my way. Then Michael, one of the top officers of the heavenly army, came to help me, so that I was able to break through these spirit rulers of Persia." (Dan. 10:12-13)
From an earthly perspective nothing was happening. Daniel's prayers were falling like rocks on hard ground. But from a heavenly perspective a battle was raging. Two angels were engaged in fierce combat for three weeks. While Daniel was waiting, God was working. What if Daniel had given up? Lost faith? Walked away from God? Better yet, what if you give up? Lose faith? Walk away? Don’t.
All of heaven is warring on your behalf. Above and around you at this very instant, God's messengers are at work. Keep waiting: “Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” (Isa. 40:31) Fresh strength. Renewed vigor. Legs that don't grow weary. Delight yourself in God, and he will bring rest to your soul. You can wait out this waiting room season.
Oh, and pay careful attention while you wait. You’ll find the most wonderful surprise. The doctor will step out of his office and take the seat next to yours. "Just thought I'd keep you company while you’re waiting." Most doctors won’t do that, but yours will. After all, he is the Great Physician.
Grace,
Randy
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