Is there anything more excruciating than sitting in the waiting room? Mind racing, head spinning, eyes glazing, heart pounding; waiting for confirmation or absolution. In this place of uncertainty and confusion, we reach for what is concrete. We reach for affirmation that the Great Physician is working the night shift…
Maybe you have been there. You know the feeling of terror and wonder, and all things desperate. You wonder if this is the beginning of the end, or the end of the beginning. You don’t know who to call, can’t remember the numbers anyway. You pace back and forth in haze of wonder.
And then you collapse to your knees in heap of ashes! You begin calling the One who has sustained you thus far. You dial the number Home, and reach for the comfort of His assurance. “Wake up, God! Are you sleeping? Don’t you care if we perish in this storm?”
After witnessing the most horrific murder recorded in human history, friends of the crucified Jesus hid themselves away in a blur of panic. The New Testament describes the scene as a huddle of confusion; terrified of their own impending fate, the disciples locked themselves away in a first century “waiting room”.
Can you imagine the conversations? Closed shades, hushed whispers, “now what?” Their pension plan, retirement package, and eternal hope had been massacred on a Roman execution stake, and the death of Jesus had implications for their own graves.
But in this waiting room, this end-of-the-rope, place of emergency, the Comforter would reveal Himself in a tangible way. The Promised would invade the petrified, the Healer would touch the horror. The resurrection would repair the rage.
As they received the Good News, the Great Physician ignited them to be witnesses of this hope. The message was delivered with dunamis (dynamite, explosive power), that darkness had been chased away by the light of morning. A new day had come, and sin/death/hell/hate had been conquered and crucified by healing/life/heaven/love.
But the greatest is love.”
– 1 Corinthian 13:13