If we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. —Romans 8:25 (niv)
My five-year-old grandson Drake is allergic to peanuts. We found this out a few years ago when his first peanut butter sandwich was followed by his first trip to the emergency room. The doctor told us that there was a small chance Drake might outgrow this allergy. We’ve all prayed that might be the case, but we’ve also educated Drake about his “problem” and taught him that he cannot eat everything others may be eating.
Last month Drake was retested. His three-year-old brother Brock was tested for nut allergies too. The week before the procedure, Drake was smiling and wiggling with excitement. “Nina, I’m going to have a test and I might not be allergic. If I’m not allergic, I’m coming to your house to eat peanut butter!” But when the nurse called with the results, Drake was still allergic to nuts. Brock, however, was not.
A few days ago, the boys and I were heading home from preschool. From the backseat, Drake said, “Nina, can you guess who’s not allergic to nuts? No, it’s not me. It’s Brock!” I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Drake pointing to Brock, a big smile on his face. We drove in silence for a few minutes before Drake continued. “I will be tested again when I am six. Maybe I will not be allergic that time. And then, Nina, I will come to your house and eat peanut butter.”
Hope—pure, unadulterated hope. Drake was happy knowing that his desire could still come to pass. He would wait expectantly. And in the meantime, he’d celebrate his brother’s good fortune.
I’m going to try (again) this year to do as the Apostle Paul admonishes: to hope, to believe and to wait patiently. It shouldn’t be too hard. After all, I have Drake to show me how it’s done.
Father, I wait for Your perfect timing in my life.
