“And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.” - Exodus 14:13-14

Waiting is the worst.

For me, times of waiting are more often than not times when I’m most anxious and unsettled. It’s honestly why most mornings are hard for me...the anticipation and expectations of the day weigh on me, and in those prolonged moments of waiting, I crumble.

For me, waiting is like being a statue. (This is not an exhaustive exposition on waiting. One can, and will, do much during a time of waiting, but that’s not the current lesson I’m learning; I’m learning to stand still.)

When I was 14, my family of five crammed into an Italian station wagon and road tripped through Europe for two weeks (you should have seen my parents struggle with the infotainment settings...they were all in Italian!). One of our stops was in Florence, Italy, where we saw David, the masterpiece marble statue by Michelangelo created from 1501-1504. David symbolized the defense of the civil liberties of the Republic of Florence, an independent city-state that was under constant threat from more powerful states.

When you’re looking at a statue, you’re able to investigate it from every angle. For 500 years, hundreds of thousands of people have slowly, meticulously analyzed David from every angle and viewpoint, looking at his intimate details and possible flaws. He is a masterpiece, but he is exposed. He cannot move, he cannot hide, he cannot cover himself. He is made to be seen, made to draw the gaze and admiration (but also the scrutiny) of others. He is a symbol of strength and might, but he can be that symbol only if he is seen in sheer vulnerability.

Waiting is hard because it turns us into statues, and being a statue is being vulnerable. Movement and activity are classic defensive tactics; we are more difficult to spot, target, and attack. By never stopping, we never let others see us or know us. We never have the trouble of enduring painful scrutiny or exposed flaws. But statues do.

When I am waiting for my day to start or when a hard conversation is looming, all I want to do is run. “Go! Do something! You’re going to be seen!” my meddlesome mind yells at me.

But there’s also a still, small but secure voice that says, “Be still and know that I am God. Stand strong; be a statue that glorifies its Creator.”

God made you and I to be seen. We aren’t meant to live in the shadows, constantly dodging the inquisitive eyes of others. We are meant to stand for hundreds of years, proudly displaying ourselves as the masterpiece that we are, glorifying our Creator to all that see.

Waiting is the worst. I’m invariably anxious during times of waiting, but that tension I feel is just because I’m a statue who is trying to run.

And statues never run.

“Be still and know that I am God. 

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!” - Psalm 46:10