To believe in God is to know that all the rules will be fair and that there will be wonderful surprises. -Sister Corita
There is a beautiful white chapel at Covecrest in Tiger, Georgia. Saint Stephen’s Chapel. Perhaps you have seen it in person, or a photograph of it, or have been there yourself. I have written about it before - it is quite a stunning work of art, holding hundreds of thousands of prayers and tears and joys and countless songs. Four years ago, in that tiny chapel in the hills of Georgia, my now-husband woke up every morning and prayed for an hour in adoration with his fellow summer missionaries leading Life Teen’s summer camp. Whenever I get the gift of going back to do ministry at Covecrest, setting foot in that chapel is a very sacred experience.
There are only a few things in life I know with certainty, and one is that we are all clay in the hands of God, the potter. A second is that artists cannot and will not be rushed.
Naturally, I often receive questions about how to wait patiently for God to reveal His plan for one’s life. Many women ask me about the waiting, most especially how to wait patiently for the man God may have in store for them, the right career, or what their next season will look like.
What I know now when I walk into that white chapel is that life is not about any sort of exercise of patience - it is about living - and knowing, well in your soul, that God will not send him a moment too soon or a moment too late, that He will shed light on the next season or the answers to our questions in the exact millisecond He has designated, and that He is shaping and molding each of us right where we find ourselves. Right here and now.
What I know now when I stand with my feet on that creaky wooden floor where Daniël prayed many times is that God, the careful potter, knows precisely what He is doing in every season while he molds the clay of our lives...while we ask Him questions all the while about what is to come and why it is not coming sooner.
You cannot rush the potter. A rushed artist is not given the proper room to create their work.
I stand there and I imagine the seats Daniël sat in while we lived our unconnected lives…God walking with us separately and paving the way for the moment our lives would intersect. It is overwhelmingly beautiful to know that God was shaping my husband’s heart and life in that light-filled room - preparing him to enter into his vocation of marriage with me one day - preparing us both well for what was ahead in life’s next season.
Now, I can only stand in that chapel and think of my silly self wondering in my early twenties…God…come on…WHO IS HE?! What’s the plan?! Why won’t you give me a glimpse of what’s ahead in my life? Give me a hint at least!
You can certainly beg an artist to tell you what the end result of what they are working on will turn out to be...if Michelangelo had tried to describe the Sistine Chapel to someone as he commenced his work on it, his description probably would have fallen slightly flat in comparison to the final product.
You cannot rush God’s plan. Allow yourself to be clay in his mighty hands and don’t see it as an exercise of patience - just live. And stop asking Him what the piece will look like in the end…it would ruin the glorious surprise.