Waiting

                In my former book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach until the day he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. After his suffering, he showed himself to these men and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.” (Acts 1:1-5)

          In one of the classes I attend, we’re going to start the books of Acts. I don’t know if I’m going to make it a part of what I share here, but I thought I’d get a head start. So, a little introductory information. The best information we have on this missive is that it was written by a doctor named Luke, to someone  he called Theophilus, meaning either lover of God, or one loved by God. I submit that might not have been his real name, but that it’s a name that Luke could use that would not get the recipient killed. He wrote the book of Luke to the same person. It was written around 64 AD, so thirty years (or less) from the time the events took place.
          The point that impresses me as I read it this morning is Jesus’ telling the disciples to wait, to not leave Jerusalem, but to wait. Not only were they told to wait, but they were told what to wait for: the baptism of the Holy Spirit. No, I’m not going to start preaching Pentecostalism. My point is that they were told to wait, to wait somewhere that was not home, in an area decidedly unfriendly to their cause for an event about which. quite frankly, they probably had no clue. What in the world was a baptism by the Holy Spirit? What was the Holy Spirit? Yes, Jesus talked about some Comforter, and He has mentioned the Spirit, but what is He talking about?
          I don’t know about you, but I feel as if I’ve spent most of my life waiting. Friends and advisors have told me to send resumes out of town, to go find a different job, to do a lot of things, but I have felt the need to wait. Sometimes, I’m sure what stopped me is my own fear and laziness, but other times, I’ve felt almost held back. 
          Waiting isn’t a popular pastime in America, or with Human Beings in general. I hate waiting. It seems to me as if I have spent my life waiting. Every once in a while, I get all excited, I strike camp, take a two-inch step and get told to set up camp again. I don’t know what’s worse, having to wait for something you know about, or having to wait for something you don’t. 
          Sometimes, one of the problems with waiting is that I tend to think of waiting as waiting. That’s the activity you do when you wait, you…just…wait…and wait…and…wait. There are things you could do, and things you should do, but, “No, I’m sorry, I’m waiting…. Can’t you see, I’m waiting? I’m telling you, this is what waiting looks like!” Waiting can also get quite comfortable, even in its discomfort.
          I suspect that while we wait, we’re supposed to productive. While we wait, we should keep our eyes open for what needs to be done, and we should do those things. This meaning that waiting might even include “catching up on your sleep.” That seems to be this morning’s struggle.