Anchored in a cove on Old Hickory Lake, I was floating Saturday on my paddleboard under a beautiful blue sky decorated with white puffy clouds. A blue heron was perched on a big chunk of driftwood
about thirty feet from me, also taking in the sun and enjoying the gorgeous day.
After about fifteen minutes, the blue heron eased herself down to the water, and in slow motion, walked a few steps to position
herself close to the bank. Her very slow, deliberate movement communicated to me that she was looking for dinner. Once she got into position, she didn’t budge. A few times she inched herself into leaning forward, as if about to strike, but apparently the fish never came close enough. I looked at her and thought to myself, in order to eat, she just has to be still and wait. Anything else and she will prolong the waiting.
Just hours prior, I had been journaling about needing to be still and trust … and wait. It’s easy to imagine what would happen if the blue heron decided to actively pursue fish to catch dinner. She would splash wildly, sending a warning to every fish in the area and wouldn’t catch a thing. Because of her actions, her chances of success would go from probable or at least possible, to “no dinner
tonight.”
Waiting with trust and serenity is challenging for me. I often get caught up in self-made commotion, trying to force things to happen in my time, and my way. Wonder how many times I have unknowingly caused my own delays? Dinner will come to the heron, swim right up to her if she can be still and wait. She does have to put herself in a
favorable, receiving position, but after that, she just has to be still and trust that one will eventually come close enough to grab.
About every ten minutes, the heron gave herself a break from maintaining her rigid predator posture, sharing another needed reminder. We don’t have to work nonstop until a task is done. We need to relax and take
time-outs regularly to rest and recharge. Our motivation and energy must be tended and renewed throughout the process so we have just as much chance of success as when we first began.
Over thirty minutes passed during my observation of the heron. Without me even realizing it, she had continually eased farther down the bank. I could see fish
jumping out of the water a mere ten feet from her. I knew she could see them too. She contiued to show great restraint and patience.
Perhaps the hardest time to be still is when we can see how close we are to the finish line, or to a big milestone along the way? The end is in sight, and yet still too far away to reach by our own power. The
temptation to force a resolution becomes even stronger, but if we act prematurely, we may actually set ourselves back.
I wish I could report that the heron caught a big fish in front of me, filled her belly, then returned to sunning on driftwood. After thirty minutes had passed, she flew across the cove to try again from a fresh perspective,
bringing yet another reminder. When something isn’t working, it’s okay to try a new approach. I used to call that quitting. Now I call it creativity.
Is there something you need to wait patiently for right now? Personally, I have a few things hanging in the balance, so living peacefully with uncertain timelines and outcomes is front and center for
me.
We’ve looked forward to building a house for several years, but kept encountering obstacles. We finally started building in March and mentally, I was half moved in, thinking it’s a sure thing now. Then in May,
the builder quit, leaving us with a foundation and a legal mess. We’ve done what we could, we’re seeking help, and all we can do now is be still, wait and trust.
Just like the heron knows the lake is full of fish and she will catch what she needs when she needs it, I too know that my gifts are forthcoming as well. I can choose to stay full of
negative emotions, or I can choose to believe this situation is working out in my favor, in ways even better than our original plan. As much as I'd like to, I can’t control the outcome or the timing regarding building our home. But I can control how I choose to wait. It feels much better to wait with a trusting, optimistic heart full of hope.
Going
forward, let’s remember the blue heron and picture this visual reminder when we’re considering an attempt to force what we want in our own power and in our own timing. If we’ve done our part, we can wait gracefully, trusting, knowing that what we need will come.
