Why not now, Lord?
Rain splatters on the windows. It is cold, but the air is warm. “Come look!” my daughter pulls at my arm, her brown eyes sparkling. There are new piggies in the barn. They hide from the camera and grunt happily as they munch on corn behind the water dish.
We talk about names and I veto her idea to name them after friends and family. “It will sound a little funny in a few months, when we talk about sending them to the butcher,” I explain and she concedes in understanding.
They will earn their names, we finally conclude. Whether it be Piggly and Wiggly or Pork and Chops.
We stop to take pictures of the flowers, lined up on an old wagon, waiting to be planted in the ground. When we finish and step outside, she slips a hand into mine. “Oh, mommy!” she remembers, “I have to show you something.” She drags me through the rain, around the edge of an old parts tractor. “This is my secret garden,” she explains. There are wild flowers dancing, raindrops dripping off the white daisies and yellow mustard and purple vetch.
When she looks at me, something catches tight and close in my chest.
I have a daughter.
After years of infertility and failed adoptions, we had given up. We wrote the dream of family off and laid a fleece before God. “If you want us to have children, Lord,” we said, “then have someone contact us about adopting. Until then, we’re done trying to make anything happen.”
We didn’t regret the things we had done, but we felt a peace about leaving the future in God’s capable hands.
And here she was. Even though we truly never thought she would be.
Eight years old, smart as a whip, and as snuggly as a teddy bear.
I sometimes stand beside her, watching her face as she tells a story, and my mind quiets with wonder. God does marvelous things. He works in ways we could never imagine. Not always in our time frame–in fact, I would venture to say most often not in our time frame. But then later, afterwards, we can look back and see the timing for what it truly is, a gift.
So many days were spending crying out to God, “Why not now?”
I would have done things differently. I would have given my husband children when I was younger and had more energy. I would have borne the babies I desired and adopted the children I loved and eliminated the long wait.
I don’t know all the reasons why God said, “Wait.” But I do know a few:
- I know there was a beautiful, precious little girl who needed a home now.
- I know she wandered through many difficult circumstances and God moved mountains to place her in our family.
- I know there was more going on than just what affected me.
God was looking at a bigger picture and now that I have a glimpse, I am in awe.
It wasn’t all about me, but some of it was. And in the journey, through the wait, God was molding this heart. With the shattered pieces of lost dreams, He was building something new. Something beautiful.
As I watch my daughter curl up on the couch, black hair brushed back from her face, eyes moving across the page of the book she’s reading, I feel it all–the joy of today, the sorrow of yesterday, the trials of tomorrow. There are so many feelings, so many realizations, and so much of God in every moment. My questions of “Why not now?” are finally answered. If God had moved when I requested, the glory I am now experiencing would have been impossible.
And this time, this time, the glory is all His.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Are you struggling through a long wait? Waiting for a husband, children, a job, a dream?
If the cry of your heart is, “Why not now, God?” then hear this today: He’s working, friend. He is.
He is molding and shaping. and even time is in His hands. He may be crafting your dream, or creating something new for your heart, but He is moving.
To read more about God’s miraculous redemption of “timing” in my story visit here: Redemption is for all, even me.
I am so happy for you, Natasha. Rejoicing with you and so excited for you to see the picture God had been painting in all those quiet years.
So just wanted to let you know…this blessed me profusely.
I can relate so well to this in my life, Tasha, where I think I see the big picture until later when God reveals more of the canvas. What a lovely image He has in mind compared to my messed up one. Loving following your journey into motherhood and celebrating God’s goodness with you.