Made first in the waiting

As a sideline, my daughter decided to take up photography to supplement her income. Before long, it became common to see her walk into family events with a camera and accessories strapped to her, always ready to capture a moment others might miss. On one particular occasion, she captured a scene that could’ve easily fallen within the lines of a Norman Rockwell painting.
Her twin brother’s wife was giving birth to their first child, a baby girl. It was also her son’s first birthday. Tired from the long wait and too young to understand all that was happening, little Malakai finally fell asleep in the waiting room. His mother saw the perfect opportunity — a moment worth remembering. There he was, sleeping on a bench seat, a little chubby face framed by red curls and ivory skin, blissfully unaware that a little cousin was making her entrance into the family. The photograph captured a moment in time and was given the caption, “Waiting on a Woman.”
Waiting. It seems so simple in a photograph — a child resting, unaware that life is changing just down the hall, that birthdays and new beginnings are unfolding nearby. There is a peacefulness in his waiting. Nevertheless, most of us know that waiting rarely feels peaceful when we are the ones living in it.
Much of our lives are spent in waiting rooms — waiting for answers, healing, open doors, or prayers to be answered. Some waiting lasts only a moment; some stretches into years, wearing on the soul. Daniel knew this kind of waiting. When he prayed for understanding, the answer did not come immediately. It was held back for twenty-one days while the angel Gabriel wrestled with spiritual forces opposing the message, until Michael, the archangel, came to release it. Daniel waited, yet God’s answer was never absent — it came on His timing, carried through heavenly intervention Daniel could not see (Daniel 10:12–14).
In John 5, we read about a man who wondered if change would ever come. He had waited thirty-eight years by the Pool of Bethesda, hoping for healing, watching for the stirring of the waters, and seeing others step in ahead of him year after year. His life had become defined by paralysis, and waiting had become normal; he had grown accustomed to being last—until Jesus stepped into his waiting and made him first. Jesus did not see only a condition; He saw a man. He did not see wasted years; He saw possibility. And He asked if he was ready to be healed.
Not all paralysis is physical. Sometimes it is fear that keeps us from moving forward. Sometimes it is guilt that convinces us we cannot rise again. Sometimes it is habits, disappointments, or wounds we have carried so long that they begin to feel permanent. We learn to live beside what has held us down.
But Jesus still steps into our waiting places. He steps into the places where we feel stuck, where change seems impossible. With Him comes the invitation to rise — in body and in spirit. The healing He brings is not only about walking again; it is about living again. Whatever has us waiting, whatever has left us feeling paralyzed, the good news remains the same: Jesus is not absent from our waiting. He meets us there, and in His time, He calls us to stand — in Him.
The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. — Lamentations 3:25–26 (ESV)

Cheryl Mixon-Cruce is Pastor of Ochlockonee Bay United Methodist Church and Sopchoppy United Methodist Church.