When God says, "Wait."

Lord let me wait for the right time. May I never become too impatient as to spoil the sweetness of the fruit you have been preparing for me.

She plops herself motionless in front of her dull and radiation-emitting computer, staring blankly at the screen, wishing, wishing, she would know what to make out of it - that string of words she knew could be the bomb in her life as a single. She blinks. Her heart is in a monotonous rhythm. Yeah, right. It seems to her the world is taking its time rotating slowly, as if its inhabitants were not anticipating that enchanting thing they all call "someday". Grudgingly, she pans her eyes around the room which eventually fall on the spine of a tiny book which read "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" in bold red letters. It hits her. She turns the corners of her lips upward into a smile and begins to tap the keyboard with conviction. Not bad. This might just be what she should be writing today as her blog's second entry.

The fruits. Their sweetness is dependent on how long they stay on the branches. We all know that. How they are enjoyed depends on how a person eats it. We all know that. We know things about fruits - how they were formed, developed, and processed. Fruits are not aliens to us. We see them on trees, on stalls, in the fridge, on our dining tables, or even on our beds (yes, I have a banana on my bed right now). We know them by heart. By mind. By our stomachs. We may think we know it all, but we don't. On second thought, maybe we do, but it's the realization and acceptance stage that makes it hard for us to move on and grasp reality. What we don't know (or what we don't want to know) is that the truth about fruits could actually be an extension of the truth about us humans. And this denial of the truth keeps us locked in our own deceitful hearts' dungeons. Okay. It may sound creepy and off, but I was trying to make a point. Bear with it.

This little prayer caught my eye earlier and it just sliced through me, like a sharpened bamboo spear, that even we, Christians, had slowly conformed into our impatient and busy world, and had made fast and impatient monsters out of ourselves in consequence.

So, what exactly am I talking about? It's all about the fruits. No, wait. It isn't. It's about our complete submission to the Lord's will. I remember once when I was reading Joshua Harris' I Kissed Dating Goodbye, I stumbled upon a beautiful reminder which stuck in my head ever since. "The right thing at the wrong time is the wrong thing." Until now, it's still in my heart like a hard candy in my mouth. Then, a few weeks ago, I received another reminder through my classmate who took a seat beside me and began sharing something about a guy breaking her heart. They met briefly at Baguio last summer through their National Youth Convention and, although it seemed too early, that was when the guy started showing his feelings for her and making promises he shouldn't have said. Apparently, his interest for her died down as quickly as he had recognized it. Yes. She was devastated. I think she still is.

"Aine, now I understand," she whispered through the tears that had apparently escaped from her eyes, "Just because he's a godly man, doesn't mean he's the one."

My chest hurt. I felt her pain. I wanted to cheer her up and bring back her old self again. But seeing her tear-stained cheeks and pursed lips made me think it wouldn't be as easy as I think it would be. The damage was great. Obviously. I just squeezed her hand and reminded her of the Lord's wonderful plan for her. Her prince was still out there, waiting for the moment when God would lead him to her. It just isn't the time yet. We should, instead, enjoy our singlehood with Christ. That's what we are supposed to do, anyway.

Going home, I continued recalling everything she had told me at class. The pain in my chest has not yet subsided. It still lingered there like a growing tumor. What if that happened to me? Shivers still run down my spine whenever that thought crosses my mind. I believe. I know. We're supposed to know. The heart is deceitful. Emotions should never be trusted. They are fleeting. If we give in to the wrong one who might be in front of us now, how, then, could we ever face the "one" that God had specially chosen for us? What would be left of our hearts? It's scary, really, to reach that moment when you realize you're actually in the wrong tunnel.

To wait is a choice. I could never trust myself. Not my emotions. Not even the "Christianity" label the enemy uses as facade. So, yes. I choose to wait. Not easy, but better. Besides, singleness is a gift. Instead of doing something "about" it, we should do something "with" it. I even try to assess my emotional life every now and then, "How exactly is my heart faring?" These assessing sessions I have once in a while only bring me to one realization every single time (not that I never knew that already): The more I entertain my emotions and feed it, the farther my focus falls. This is a struggle with emotions. My emotions. Even other people's emotions. Of course, it's hard, and you always feel like you're losing, but you never really do, as long as you hold on to the Lord's promises. Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven." Isn't this promise enough? I know it is. It is more than enough.

"Too often, people want what they want right now. The irony of their impatience is that only by learning to wait, and by a willingness to accept the bad with the good, do we usually attain those things that are truly worthwhile."

There is still a long way to go. A thousand hurdles to take. A million heartbeats to feel. And just then could I finally say, "I have waited for the fruit to ripen, Lord. I have waited. And now that you have given it to me, I shall taste it at its best."