Book News & Thoughts on Waiting

Hi Friends,

A couple things today. First, we're gearing up for the release of IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES. Check out the new stuff on my website, including a new page of infertility resources (great resource if you come across anyone struggling with this issue), and I've also added an audio interview about the new book and some of the deeper issues I was wanting to address in the book. Check that out by clicking on the audio-video player on my website -- front page, bottom right hand column. Good stuff! (Note: There are links above to my website.)

Second, if you have an active blog and would like to put up a review, or info about If Tomorrow Never Comes, email my PR person, Kelly Blewett, at kellyblewett @ hotmail . com (take out the spaces) with a link to your blog and tell her so. The top blogs will be invited to participate in a blog campaign the week after the book's release on March 17. I'd love it if some of you participated - that'd be great!

Third, a friend sent this great poem this week that really captures much of how God interacts with me in my life. So, I thought I'd share it here. As far as I know, the author is unknown. See if it speaks to you like it spoke to me:


WAIT

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried.
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate,
and the Master so gently said, “Child, you must wait.”

“Wait? You say, wait!” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith, I have asked, and am claiming your Word.

My future and all to which I can relate
Hangs in the balance, and YOU tell me to WAIT?
I’m needing a ‘yes,’ a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to which I can resign.

And Lord, you promised that if we believe
we need but to ask, and we shall receive,
and Lord, I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking! I need a reply!”

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
as my Master replied once again, “You must wait.”
So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
and grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting – for what?”

He seemed, then, to kneel, and his eyes wept with mine.
And he tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens, and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead, and cause mountains to run.
All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be.
You would have what you want – but you wouldn’t know me.

You’d not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint.
You’d not learn to see through the clouds of despair.
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there.
You’d not know the joy of resting in me
when darkness and silence were all you could see.

You’d never experience that fullness of love
as the peace of my Spirit descends like a dove.
You’d know that I give and I save (for a start),
but you’d not know the depth of the beat of my heart.
the glory of my comfort late into the night,
the faith that I give when you walk without sight,
the depth that’s beyond getting just what you asked
of an infinite God, who makes what you have LAST.

You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that “My grace is sufficient for Thee.”
Yes, your dreams for your loved one overnight would come true.
But, oh, the loss! If I lost what I’m doing in you!

So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
that the greatest of gifts is to get to know me.
And though oft’ may my answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still, “WAIT.”

Author Unknown