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My husband, Ray, was gone for five days on a business trip. I longed for him to return. I have a three-day limit then need to reconnect.

So I waited. I thought about him often. Talked about him. Sent him messages.

On the night he was returning, I straightened up messes I hadn’t attended to. I did the dishes. I got ready for his return.

I told my son that when Ray got home, I was focusing only on him in that space.

And it makes me wonder: Is this what it means to wait for Jesus to return?

To be ready. To long. To focus. To celebrate.

“Wait for the Lord; Be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14

To “wait for” the Lord is the Greek word Qawah.  It means to bind together by twisting. It’s to expect, await, look for patiently.

So waiting isn’t a passive thing. It’s being bound together–twisted up–with the object of my waiting.

It’s not like waiting to spot a stalking coyote–who may or may not show up.

It’s like waiting with my heart connected and bound up in the hope of something like Ray’s return home.

It is certainty. It’s not knowing when exactly but knowing it’s going to happen for sure.

That is what I wait for–a certain hope in a God who delivers.

And my heart is bound up in the waiting.