Waiting on gods timing8/29/2023 ![]() ![]() Pharaoh’s daughter went to the river to bathe at exactly the right time to find baby Moses in the basket (Exodus 2:5).Īnd Jesus came to Earth at exactly the right time to fulfill the prophesies, save us from sin, and restore hope to a broken world! Joseph was released from prison at exactly the right time to save his people, including his own family, from famine (Genesis 41-46). What felt “late” to Hannah was actually perfect because Samuel was born at exactly the right time to lead an idolatrous nation back to God. His timing is perfect, and His presence is constant. She didn’t allow God’s silence to crush her hope or abandon her dreams-she persevered through worship and prayer while cultivating patient endurance.ĭo not mistake God’s patience for His absence. Until one day, when Hannah was well past-child bearing age, she conceived. Hannah didn’t give up-she kept praying for a son, crying out to God, and expressing her pain and frustration. In her time, “barren” women were considered a failure by society and embarrassments to their husbands. For years Hannah tried to conceive, but remained childless. Take the story of Hannah and Samuel ( Samuel 1:2-2:21 ). But, just as we can believe God is good even when life is not by remembering His faithfulness in the past, we can reflect on prior experiences, stories from the Bible, and testimonies of others to trust His timing is perfect. Holding on to hope in the waiting period and trusting God’s timing is hard, especially when the thing we’re waiting for is time-sensitive. As time passes and my health declines it can feel like hope of a diagnosis and effective treatment is slipping through my fingers. I was told this week my appointment in March that I thought would be in-person will again be virtual. I had the biopsy on February 11th, but do not yet have results. Worse yet, their next opening was more than two months out. I clicked “Yes,” submitted the form, and received a confirmation! I thought I was in the clear, but the next morning I received the bad news: I needed to cancel. “If it was God’s plan, you wouldn’t need to lie.” I was faced with the decision of lying to keep the appointment and potentially receive a diagnosis for my unexplained pain OR tell the truth. The night before my biopsy, I went online to fill out the paperwork and, under the section on Communicable Disease Screening, it read: In the last month, have you been in contact with someone who was confirmed or suspected to have Coronavirus? ![]() Because his appointment was a few hours hours after mine, he wouldn’t even have the quick results back in time. His work ordered him to stay home and take a COVID test, which he was able to schedule for December 10th-the same day as my biopsy. Two days before my appointment, my husband started feeling sick. ![]() But that didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t seeing patients in person, or that the biopsy was a non-essential procedure. He answered my questions and spent over an hour on our first telehealth call. Within two weeks, I had a new doctor who genuinely seemed to care. That’s when I contacted the University of Maryland Neurology Care Center. When the Department of Neurology at the first university finally got back to me, I was told “there was nothing further they could do” and that I should “follow-up with my current physician.” Are you kidding me?! COVID didn’t help-it was next to impossible to speak to a real person in the beginning. T hree months of phone calls, voicemails, medical records requests, and waiting for callbacks. I had gotten so tired of being bounced around, treated like a number, and then being referred to someone else when their treatments failed that I’d requested to see a university specialist. This was after three months of trying to find a new doctor. In those s even months the pain progressed from my legs and feet to include my fingers and hands. Due to COVID, I had waited seven months to be seen because they were only doing “essential surgeries.” The skin punch biopsy, which is used to determine changes in nerve fiber function or density, was considered “non-essential,” meaning they believed it could be delayed without undue risk to my health. It was the night before my biopsy to test for small fiber neuropathy. “If it was God’s plan, you wouldn’t need to lie,” my husband said. ![]()
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