Worry has a way of gnawing down a path and eating away at Joy.
Like a termite would chew it's way through a wood beam.
I have been reading from a journal of mine, I believe written more than 10 years ago.
...remembering Corrie Ten Boom's analogy of the grace and strength that comes in time of great need. Miss Ten Boom's father, when she was a small child, would stand at the train depot with her. This is how they traveled in those days. He would wait with her for the train to come. He never gave her the train ticket until it was time for her to climb aboard. When the time came, she received just what she needed to make the trip. She spoke about this when people said things like "I could never do what you did," or "if terrifying times come, how will I know that I'll survive?" She would recall the memory and verify that this holds true for the heavenly Father.
I have thought on this before. For me, I struggle to be one who rests and patiently waits for "the ticket." I've fretted and searched for "tickets". I've pleaded with God to give it to me ahead of time. I've sat and worried about how I would probably lose it anyways, brow-beating myself over events that might, possibly happen.
I've been tied up in knots and worried myself into a frenzy. This seems to come so naturally. But what a waste! A waste! Worry for nothing. I get aboard and slump into exhaustion from the workout, ride until my next stop, and fret all the same at the next boarding. I'm only realizing this now. He is faithful every time to give me the faith, grace, strength, endurance that I need in the time of battle.
I'm only realizing now that I've missed the joy of standing in the waiting line.
I spoke there years ago, of the joy that was missed. I had missed the conversations with my Father, my heavenly Father, about important things while waiting to go where I was to go. I had missed the tender moments of shared affection and new discoveries and pleasant surprises, all because I was busy talking and pestering him about the ticket.
Oh Lord, Thank you for the times of waiting.
I desire to see them truly as part of the journey. I rest in quiet confidence in your ability to be faithful.