Zay is always hungry.  Always.

Without fail, a half hour before dinner, he wants to eat.  So does Ms. Bird.  Generally, he whines a bit, but settles in, understanding that dinner is just around the corner.  She does not.

She screams.

Momma (that’s me), in her finite understanding, knows that both are capable of waiting the few minutes before meal time.  I’m just about finished chopping squash that will sauté quickly, and the chicken on the stovetop just got a dose of seasoning.  Momma, in her limited capacity, somehow always makes meals too late, because everyone is always hungry.  Momma, in her simple ways, knows to put Ms. Bird in her seat and make sure she has food in front of her while Zay says grace.

But.  They’re capable of waiting.

Zay, with his growing understanding, prepares himself for the meal.  He gets plates and forks out and sets the table.  Ms. Bird?  She screams.

The big picture means that there’s things that needed tending to before meal time.  Naps and gardening, errands and laundry.  Playtime with Dad.  Meal time depends on his schedule, and what we had going on that day.  (I do not have hard and fast times for anything… sorry, world.)  There’s a bit of improvisational orchestrating going on each day.

Orchestrating.

God hears us.  If the Lord knows “when I sit down and when I rise up” and “discern(s) my thoughts from afar” (Psalm 139:2 ESV), then for sure He hears my prayers.  He knows when I am hungry and needing answers.  And He is never late.

When I walk in maturity, I say, “Yes, Lord,” and wait (semi) patiently.  I do the simple preparing I know how.  I ready the horse for the day of battle, but know that “victory rests with the Lord” (Proverbs 21:31 NIV).  I trust that my Heavenly Father knows what I need, and wait for Him to prepare it.  I know He has divine orchestration prepared, and understand that I can wait.

But sometimes, I scream.  I am the youngest and the neediest, the most immature who needs to hear quick that I haven’t been forgotten.

In His time.  I’m capable of waiting.

Zay is enjoying picking the tomatoes that are now constantly ripening.  Sometimes, under our watchful eyes, he picks them fully ripe, but usually the little cherry tomatoes are barely orange, and he wipes it on his shirt, pops it in his mouth and says, “Hmm, that was pretty good.”

As we grow in relationship with our loving Father, Who is always watchful, we begin to see the beauty of the “appointed time.”  He answers, and we are fed.  Sometimes, we rush the answer–rush the fruit, and it’s a bit tart and hard to swallow.  But in His ultimate sovereignty, somehow, we are fed.  Sometimes, we aren’t listening, aren’t attentive, and miss the perfect time.  We show up late, and the fruit has begun to rot.  It’s mushy and past its prime, and hard to swallow.  But in His ultimate sovereignty, we are fed.

In these “off times,” we vow to listen more closely and be more attentive.  To draw closer to our Father, who always knows the perfect time.  Habakkuk tells us, “For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.” (2:3 ESV)

I pray we are patient, and “hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful” (Hebrews 10:23 NIV).  Let us wait for the fully ripened fruit that God has prepared in His time.  I assure you, it will not be late.  And we’re capable of waiting.

It will be so good.