Sit With Me While I Work

There are days when my heart aches with one simple prayer:

"Jesus, come back."

I look at the brokenness of the world, the pain people carry, the division, the suffering, and I long for the day when every tear will be wiped away. The day when faith becomes sight. The day I finally see the One my soul loves face to face.

But as I sat quietly with Him recently, I sensed Him gently asking me a question.

"My love, would you ask Me to come back now when I'm still working on the hearts you've been praying for?"

"The ones you've cried over."

"The ones you've asked Me to pursue."

"The ones you long to see discover My love."

"Would you want Me to return before My transforming work in them is complete?"

His question stopped me.

Of course not.

How could I ask Him to come before the very people I've faithfully lifted before His throne have had every opportunity to know Him?

Immediately, my mind went to a verse that has shaped my prayers for years:

"The Lord isn't really being slow about his promise, as some people think. No, he is being patient for your sake. He does not want anyone to be destroyed, but wants everyone to repent."—2 Peter 3:9 (NLT)

How many times have I prayed those very words over family members, friends, neighbors, and people I love?

Lord, be patient.

Pursue them.

Open their eyes.

Reveal Your love.

Don't let them miss You.

Then I sensed His kindness even more deeply.

"I know your heart, My love. I know you long to be with Me."

"So come...sit with Me."

"Sit with Me while I finish."

"Watch Me work."

"I know your waiting isn't impatient because I hear your prayers. I see every tear you've cried for sons and daughters, spouses, neighbors, friends, and prodigals. I hear you asking Me to reveal My love to them."

"So keep praying. Keep trusting. Keep sitting with Me."

Those words settled something deep inside me.

I've realized lately that there are seasons when I desperately want to hear a fresh word from God. I convince myself He's silent because I'm waiting for Him to say something new.

But what if He isn't withholding His voice?

What if He's inviting me into something even deeper?

His presence.

This week I caught myself thinking, I can't hear Him.

Then I stopped.

He had been speaking all along.

Not always through words.

Through His nearness.

Through worship.

Through peace that settled over my anxious heart.

Through the quiet assurance that He was sitting with me.

Sometimes we cry out because we think we need answers.

When what we really need is a shoulder to lean on.

A soft place to land.

A hand to hold as we walk into a room full of strangers.

I've sensed the Lord continuing to speak to me about identity—about living fearlessly in the identity He has already given me instead of believing the false identities fear tries to assign.

He's teaching me to become a truth-teller: to tell the truth about who He is, who He says I am, and what He says about others.

The more I receive His truth, the more my heart expands for people.

The more I sit with Him, the more compassion replaces frustration.

The more I experience His love, the more I want others to know it too.

Stillness has become part of that transformation.

And if I'm honest, stillness can feel terrifying.

We live surrounded by noise, distractions, opinions, and constant activity. It's easy to mistake God's quietness for His absence.

But I'm learning something beautiful.

Practicing stillness isn't just learning to hear God's voice.

It's learning to recognize His presence.

And His presence speaks volumes.

Jesus said,

"Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."—Matthew 11:28

Real rest isn't found in getting every answer.

It's found in being with Him.

Today I asked the Lord to speak to me about some decisions John and I are considering regarding a possible move to the country. I expected direction.

Instead, He met me with worship.

I simply sat and soaked in His love.

His unconditional love washed over me in a way words never could.

Sometimes the greatest answer God gives isn't a plan.

It's Himself.

How often do we rush into His presence looking for instructions while He simply wants relationship?

How often are we so focused on hearing His voice that we miss the invitation to rest against His heart?

Maybe today He isn't asking you to figure everything out.

Maybe He's simply saying,

"Come sit with Me."

"Wait with Me."

"Watch Me finish what I've started."

Not only in your own heart, but in the hearts of those you've faithfully prayed for.

One day our waiting will end.

One day we will see Him face to face.

But until then, may we become people who are content to sit in His presence, trusting that while we wait, He is still pursuing the lost, healing the broken, renewing minds, transforming hearts, and accomplishing every good purpose of His love.

His delay is not indifference.

It's mercy.

Mercy for the prodigal.

Mercy for the skeptic.

Mercy for the weary.

Mercy for the one who still believes they're too far gone.

Mercy for the ones we've never stopped praying for.

And perhaps that's the greatest gift of waiting—not simply that we one day arrive in His presence, but that we discover we never had to wait to enjoy it.

He has been sitting with us all along.

Shel Dammann

Rhythms of Grace Life Coaching