When does the Hero come?

It's 3AM.  I should be in bed.  Tomorrow I have five classes packed into a time frame I usually only have four in.  I should be in bed.

But here I am.  Dusting off my computer and updating a blog I haven't had words for in months.

Are you still there?

I am still here.


Waiting.


For a life line.


I find myself reminding myself of how God likes to work.  He likes waiting til the deadline, and then sweeping in with brilliant inspiration.  He likes waiting until the darkest moment before releasing his Glory, lighting up the night like fireworks.  He likes making the Hero's entrance, and saving the damsel in distress at just the last moment.

It's understandable, and thrilling, and romantic... when you are reading about it in other people's lives.

It's hard when it's your own life.



I totally get Israel.  How quick they were to complain.  How easy it was to remember only the good of Egypt when they faced new hardship.  How soon forgotten the miracles God had worked.

I am certainly a daughter of Israel.


I'm waiting right now.

I'm waiting for February to be over and done with.  Every year each February seems worse than the last, and I find myself wondering how much more until I just break and go insane, or just fall apart weeping in my blankets, refusing to come out.

Stress.

Seems like a curse to me.  One I take up and repeatedly pronounce over my own life, allowing it to harm my body and soul.

Lessons learned are soon forgotten.

I'm waiting to learn what my future will look like.  Three weeks left before the church English school closes.  And only a month and a half before my visa expires.  But less than a month of money.  Costs of moving and other expenses have bled me dry.  Figuring out the best way to stretch 20 bucks a week has become my new creative pastime.

I'm tired.  Oh, so tired.

And when the stress and the tiredness pile up, I feel empty inside.
I want to give up.  I want to cry out, "why?"
I want to know where God is in all of this.

But I'm afraid to know as well.

I see all my dark and ugly sides laughing at me, taking pleasure in my negativity, hoping to drive a wedge between me and God.


But even though my heart is empty, and my soul is tired, and my body is worn...

I haven't completely forgotten.

If I only try a little, the examples flood back to me.

Abraham.  Moses.  God rescues Israel from Egypt.  He parts the Red Sea.  He provides food and water.  He removes walls.  He wins battles.  He gives children to barren women.  Jesus looks with compassion on those who are desperate for Him.

I Know.  Even if I forget, I Know.

Even if my blessings are different than what I wanted.

Even if prayers and desires of years have still yet to be answered.  Even if they never are.

But even in my own life, this is not the first time I have faced being potentially jobless.  This is not the first time my visa status has been uncertain.  This is not the first time I have been waiting for my needs to be met.

And always He meets them.

If I wait long enough, He will rescue me.

So while everyone around me is pushing me with urgings of "hurry, hurry.  do something.  search harder." my heart whispers "be still, and Know.  I AM God."


So I take up the mantel of Rahab, for I know I have prostituted myself before other Gods, trying to keep myself alive by my own power.  Overwhelmed by my debts, I have tried to scrape my way through.  But the army has come, and is camped outside the walls.  There is once last chance.  I can throw myself at the mercy of this great God, who has come to take back His land, or I can perish with the rest of the city.  There is no question for me.  The only hope lies in this God who has defeated Egypt, parted seas and rained bread from the heavens.  This is the only path to life.  So now I wait with the red thread hanging out my window.  As the army marches around the city.  Once.  Twice.  Seven times.  Each day longer than the last.
Waiting.  For the walls to come down.

I can't see the future.  How was Rahab to know she would be raised from prostitute to wife?  How would she know she would be allowed in the lineage of the Savior, the Christ?

But she waited.

And was saved.

Her Lifeline didn't fail her.

And neither shall mine.

I can't see what will happen in three weeks.  Will I get a job?  Will I like my job?  Will I stay in Japan?  Will I return to America?  Will I be blessed financially?  Will I be blessed with time?  Will I be healed of sickness?  Will I be granted companionship?

I can't see.  I can't possibly Know.

But He can.  He does.

And as long as I know, I believe, that the Hero will come I can wait.  Even in dire circumstances, I do not have to become the Damsel in Distress, fearing the Hero will be too late.  No.  I can be the Lady in Waiting, so in love with the Hero, that her faith never waivers.

And those are the things I needed to remember.  The words I needed to hear.

The treasures I can take to my heart, and rest now with a restored spirit.

Wait....  Just a little bit longer.

It will all be alright.

The Hero always comes at the last minute.

Always.