I am sitting in a waiting room again. Waiting…’cause, that’s what people do in a waiting room. Wondering…which goes with the territory. Worried…it’s part of the package too.
It will be a pattern in our lives for a time. Not one we desire, but part of something bigger.
Patterns. Like translucent tissue smoothed onto folded cloth, our lives develop templates from which grow habits. Some good, others less, and many invisible.
“Follow the pattern of the sound words that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. By the Holy Spirit who dwells within us, guard the good deposit entrusted to you.” (2 Timothy 1:13-14 ESV)
Paul wrote his letter to Timothy from the stone walls of a dank prison. Timothy was dear to Paul, his son in the faith. But as Paul wrote, his pen belied his dismal surroundings by their boldness, graciousness, hope, and future of which they spoke.
It was like Paul’s private personal waiting room. For he knew his days were numbered. Time was short. The end loomed near. Yet, Paul still found within this terminal disruption of his life, things left to do. Life waiting to be finished.
Paul’s way of life, his “pattern,” provided for Timothy, an example laid out for Christian living, an outline, the tracing paper to follow. Kind of like saying, cut your life out of the same cloth.
And it makes me stop and wonder in my waiting room, what pattern am I entrusting to others?
This pattern Paul described is of “sound words.” They were healthy words which flowed out of the teaching of Christ. Words expressed from love and faith in Jesus. They were without corruption, uncolored by falsehoods or tarnished by self-centered opinions. Paul patterned what He taught in truth because He followed the pattern set down by Christ Himself.
When the pattern of my life is traced with lines of worry and impatience, my tongue wants to respond without thought or grace. Added stress and change of habit make me irritable and bothered at times. I get peevish and easily offended.
I think Paul understood we are like that. And he warned against it.
He prescribed faith and love for Christ as our foundation, our pattern.
Uninvited changes, by their disturbance of routine, sometimes stir self-centeredness. I don’t want to do what has to be done. It is troublesome, burdensome, and weighty. Time interruptions feel invasive. Disruptions reveal tracings of inward pride and arrogance.
Paul carefully laid out a blueprint. That pattern followed Jesus. It was a “good deposit,” an excellent treasure.
And this older man in his waiting room prison cell, nearing his “time of departure,” (2 Timothy 4:6) seems significant to me now.
“Bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments,” he instructed Timothy. (2 Timothy 4:13 ESV)
Paul’s pattern of writing and studying continued even while he sat in his waiting room. Even though he knew his life’s end approached, he hadn’t finished living. Even though his expiration date felt imminent, he had work to do. Despite unpleasant surroundings, he called for his personal items so he could continue learning and studying. Regardless of the fact that he wouldn’t have picked that particular finale, he would make use of it for Christ.
He didn’t sit in the waiting room, waiting for the inevitable.
Patterns of our lives, both the good and bad are often traced by others. Paul seemed well aware of the impact his life and actions had on those around him. Our imprint, our habitual walk, sets examples.The Apostle Paul didn’t sit in the waiting room, waiting for the inevitable. Share on X
But God is our perfect pattern-maker.
“I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day,” Paul wrote to Timothy. ( 2 Timothy 1:12 ESV)
When we know the pattern-maker, even though our status quo upends, we can still experience stability within uncertainty. Because, things that really matter become most important. Life shifts to make room for eternal values.
I dislike waiting rooms. I suppose most of us do. Yet it is often there, with our usual patterns in disarray, that God’s magnifying glass looks into the inner person. He sees what can only be seen up close and far too personal. And His searching, His tender prodding, reveals those patterns that only He can change. And we find ourselves so much richer for the alterations.
There, in the undesirable waits of life, we smooth out the wrinkles in our patterns. We line them up with our love and faith in Christ.
And we look again to Jesus. He is our perfect pattern-maker.
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