Waiting may seem like an easy thing to do, but it is a discipline that a Christian soldier does not learn without years of training. Marching and drills are much easier for God’s warriors than standing still.

There are times of indecision and confusion, when even the most willing person, who eagerly desires to serve the Lord, does not know what direction to take. So what should you do when you find yourself in this situation? Should you allow yourself to be overcome with despair? Should you turn back in cowardice or in fear or rush ahead in ignorance?

No, you should simply wait—but wait in prayer. Call upon God and plead your case before Him, telling Him of your difficulty and reminding Him of His promise to help.

Wait in faith. Express your unwavering confidence in Him. And believe that even if He keeps you waiting until midnight, He will come at the right time to fulfill His vision for you.

Wait in quiet patience. Never complain about what you believe to be the cause of your problems, as the children of Israel did against Moses. Accept your situation exactly as it is and then simply place it with your whole heart into the hand of your covenant God. And while removing any self-will, say to Him, “Lord, ‘Not my will, but yours be done’ [Luke 22:42]. I do not know what to do, and I am in great need. But I will wait until You divide the flood before me or drive back my enemies. I will wait even if You keep me here many days, for my heart is fixed on You alone, dear Lord. And my spirit will wait for You with full confidence that You will still be my joy and my salvation, ‘for you have been my refuge, [and] a strong tower against the foe’ [Psalm 61:3].”

MORNING BY MORNING

Wait, patiently wait, God never is late; Your budding plans are in Your Father’s holding, And only wait His grand divine unfolding.

Then wait, wait, Patiently wait.

Trust, hopefully trust, That God will adjust Your tangled life; and from its dark concealings, Will bring His will, in all its bright revealings.

Then trust, trust, Hopefully trust.

Rest, peacefully rest On your Savior’s breast; Breathe in His ear your sacred high ambition, And He will bring it forth in blest fruition.

Then rest, rest, Peacefully rest!

MERCY A. GLADWIN

There is a story of a woman who had had many sorrows: parents, husband, children, wealth, all were gone. In her great grief she prayed for death, but death did not come. She would not take up any of her wonted work for Christ.

One night she had a dream: she thought she had gone to heaven. She saw her husband and ran to him with eager joy, expecting a glad welcome. But, strange to say, no answering joy shone on his face—only surprise and displeasure. “How did you come here?” he asked. “They did not say that you were to be sent for today; I did not expect you for a long time yet.”

With a bitter cry she turned from him to seek her parents. But instead of the tender love for which her heart was longing, she met from them only the same amazement and the same surprised questions.

“I’ll go to my Savior,” she cried. “He will welcome me if no one else does.” When she saw Christ, there was infinite love in His look, but His words throbbed with sorrow as He said: “Child, child, who is doing your work down there?” At last she understood; she had no right yet to be in heaven; her work was not finished; she had fled away from her duty.

This is one of the dangers of sorrow: that in our grief for those who are gone we lose our interest in those who are living, and slacken our zeal in the work which is allotted to us. However great our bereavements, we may not drop our tasks until the Master calls us away. J. R. MILLER

Finish thy work, the time is short; The sun is in the west, The night is coming down; till then Think not of rest.

Rest? Finish thy work, then rest; Till then, rest never.

The rest prepared for thee by God Is rest for ever.

Finish thy work, then sit thee down On some celestial hill, And of heaven’s everlasting bliss Take thou thy fill.

Finish thy work, then go in peace, Life’s battle fought and won; Hear from the throne the Master’s voice, “Well done! Well done!”

Finish Thy work, then take the harp, Give praise to God above; Sing a new song of mighty joy And endless love!

Take not your rest too soon, else you will never enter into your real rest. It is not here on this plank amid the billows, but yonder on that shore. GEORGE BOWEN

Nothing ever happens but once in this world. What I do now I do once and forever. It is over, it is gone with a still eternity of solemn meaning.

Jacob won the victory and the blessing here not by wrestling but by clinging. His hip was out of joint and he could struggle no longer, but he would not let go. Unable to wrestle further, he locked his arms around the neck of his mysterious opponent, helplessly resting all his weight upon him, until he won at last.

We too will not win the victory in prayer until we cease our struggling. We must give up our own will and throw our arms around our Father’s neck in clinging faith.

What can our feeble human strength take by force from the hand of omnipotence? Are we able to wrestle blessings from God by force? Strong-willed violence on our part will never prevail with Him. What wins blessings and victories is the strength of clinging faith.

It is not applying pressure or insisting upon our own will that brings victory. It is won when humility and trust unite in saying, “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42).

We are strong with God only to the degree that self is conquered and is dead. Blessings come not by wrestling but by clinging to Him in faith. J. R. MILLER

An incident from the prayer life of Charles H. Usher illustrates how “wrestling prayer” is actually a hindrance to prevailing prayer. He shared this story: “My little boy, Frank, was very ill, and the doctors held out little hope of his recovery. I used all the prayer knowledge I possessed on his behalf, but he continued to worsen. This went on for several weeks.

“One day as I stood watching him while he lay on his bed, I realized he could not live much longer without a quick turn for the better. I said to the Lord, ‘Oh, God, I have spent much time in prayer for my son, and yet he is no better. I will now leave him to You and give myself to prayer for others. If it is Your will to take him, I choose Your will—I surrender him entirely to You.’

“I called in my dear wife and told her what I had done. She shed some tears but also handed him over to God. Two days later a godly man came to visit us. He had been very interested in our son Frank and had prayed often for him. He told us, ‘God has given me faith to believe that your son will recover. Do you have that faith?’

“I responded, ‘I have surrendered him to God, but I will now go again to Him regarding my son.’ I did just that and while in prayer discovered I had faith for his recovery. From that time forward he began to get better. I then realized that it was the ‘wrestling’ of my prayers that had hindered God’s answer, and that if I had continued to wrestle, being unwilling to surrender him to God, he would probably not be here today.”

O dear child of God, if you want God to answer your prayers, you must be prepared to walk “in the footsteps of the faith that our father Abraham had” (Romans 4:12), even to the mountain of sacrifice.

Oh, how the old harpist loves his harp! He cuddles and caresses it, as if it were a child resting on his lap. His life is consumed with it. But watch how he tunes it. He grasps it firmly, striking a chord with a sharp, quick blow.

While it quivers as if in pain, he leans forward, intently listening to catch the first note rising from it. Just as he feared, the note is distorted and shrill.

He strains the string, turning the torturing thumbscrew, and though it seems ready to snap with the tension, he strikes it again. Then he leans forward again, carefully listening, until at last a smile appears on his face as the first melodic sound arises.

Perhaps this is how God is dealing with you. Loving you more than any harpist loves his harp, He finds you nothing but harsh, discordant sounds.

He plucks your heartstrings with torturing anguish. Tenderly leaning over you, he strikes the strings and listens. Hearing only a harsh murmur, He strikes you again.

His heart bleeds for you while He anxiously waits to hear the strain “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42)—a melody as sweet to His ears as angels’ songs.

And He will never cease from striking the strings of your heart until your humbled and disciplined soul blends with all the pure and eternal harmonies of His own being.

Oh, the sweetness that dwells in a harp of many strings, While each, all vocal with love in a tuneful harmony rings!

But, oh, the wail and the discord, when one and another is rent, Tensionless, broken and lost, from the cherished instrument.

For rapture of love is linked with the pain or fear of loss, And the hand that takes the crown, must ache with many a cross;

Yet he who has never a conflict, wins never a victor’s palm, And only the toilers know the sweetness of rest and calm.

Only between the storms can the Alpine traveler know Transcendent glory of clearness, marvels of gleam and glow;

Had he the brightness unbroken of cloudless summer days, This had been dimmed by the dust and the veil of a brooding haze.

Who would dare the choice, neither or both to know, The finest quiver of joy or the agony thrill of woe!

Never the exquisite pain, then never the exquisite bliss, For the heart that is dull to that can never be strung to this.

Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour.

Father, glorify thy name. Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.

Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.

Being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.

Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again.

For I came down from heaven, not to do mine will, but the will of him that sent me.

The cup which my father hath given me, shall I not drink it?

The Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him.

My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased,

Mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth.

Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me.—Father, glorify thy name.

Then came there a voice from heaven, saying, I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.—Lo, I come to do thy will, O God.—Not my will, but thine, be done.

As he is, so are we in this world.—This is the confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask anything according to his will, he heareth us.

Whatsoever we ask, we receive of him, because we keep his commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in his sight.

Without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.

He ever liveth to make intercession for them.—We have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.