Inside my season of joy is a restlessness. I gave up my English classroom at the end of January because my bipolar had made me unwell. David and I took that step in faith, laying aside any career for me until such a time as God would heal me. He has done it, and it is marvelous in our eyes. These days I feel well most of the time and have a great deal of energy, enough that spending much of my time at home makes me restless.

When I led worship a couple of weeks ago, we sang a song based on Isaiah 40: “They that wait/On the Lord shall renew/Their strength/They shall mount up on wings/Just like an eagle and soar/They shall run and not be weary/They shall walk and never faint/They that/Wait on the Lord, that/Wait on the Lord…”

Yesterday, that song looped in my head for hours. I couldn’t shake it. The Lord is telling me to wait. To be still, and to wait.

Waiting does not sit well with me right now. I want answers. I want God to tell me unequivocally which path to take. I want Him to speak in an audible voice, the way He led me into the Master’s program for teaching. I want to know if I should pursue teaching literature again, or go back to school and turn my music minor into a major, or run drama camps with East Lake kids, or counsel people in holistic health, or freelance my writing, or something else entirely. I’ve been exploring all the avenues I can think of, and have yet to feel a peace about any of them.

The song echoes quietly and persistently in my mind.

“Hold on a little while longer/Here’s what you’ve got to do/Trust and believe my friend/He’ll work it out for you/Hold on/Hold on…”

I’m tired of waiting. Can’t you just give me a hint? The road doesn’t just fork, it has a half dozen forks and I still don’t know which one to take. I feel stuck and frustrated. Haven’t I waited long enough already?

“Wait on the Lord, and He will come through/Wait on the Lord, He will answer you/Wait on the Lord, and it won’t be long/Wait on the Lord…”

It’s starting to sink in, but I’m a slow learner. Waiting doesn’t have to be stuck. Waiting doesn’t have to be frustrating. I’m not waiting in the crossways alone. He waits with me, and He’s trying to tell me something. I wish I could listen more easily.