When the Waiting Might Possibly Never End

photo 1It’s the 7th of November, and today marks a full week of silence in this space. The last few days, this flicker has grown inside me — the desire to birth a piece of my soul here — but I haven’t quite known what to say.

And if I’m honest, even as I sit to write, I’m not sure what will come out.

What I do know, though, is that sitting in Panera this Friday morning, opening up my WordPress dashboard brings up tears that burn the backs of my eyes, and that almost always means some facet of my heart is ready to be unearthed, to be given language.

The end of 31 days found me tired in the best way possible. I was poured out, spent, and I knew this was the way I should feel. The result of being brought to the end of myself… and then stretched even further.

So I’ve taken a couple of naps this week, and I’ve filled journal pages. I’ve been up at night with sick kids. I’ve read books, written songs {even recorded one}, and played my guitar purely for the joy of playing. And I’ve re-fallen in love with my piano, I think.

I’ve stared at the wall a bit, too. And at the trees, which, here in KC, are nothing short of spectacular these days. I can’t stop photographing them. There’s something about them that fills my heart with a mixture of gratitude and longing, and while my brain can’t quite make all the connections to tell you precisely why, I know their beauty moves me. That it breathes into a deep unto deep cavern of my soul.

So my eyes and heart feast on rich autumn color… and on the moon.

It’s full the last couple days, and I can’t get enough. Even more than the trees, the moon moves my heart toward longing. Draws my soul’s gaze to Him: to Majesty and Holiness and Eternity. To the type of beauty that rearranges and remakes me inside. The brilliant Presence I was made to sit in, to take into myself and become a part of, day-in, day-out, for always.

photo 2


It’s a glory-to-glory kind of beauty.

It transfigures. He transfigures.

I’ve had good days this week. Days my truest self has come out uninhibited, days I know that Jesus has reached out from inside me and touched deep places of others’ hearts. Those days are all at once exhilarating and terrifying, and they propel me to lean, lean, lean into the One who covers and defines me.

I’ve had hard days too — days which are no less good, in their own right, but days in which I’ve found myself profoundly in touch with my frailty. Days I’ve told my husband, “I think I’m a little depressed, babe.”

I’m not generally prone to melancholy, not even a little. But these final (or hopefully final) days of our season of waiting to move are feeling so long, y’all.

Oh, they are SO long.

And even though all signs still point toward a relatively smooth transition to Colorado here in another 3 – 5 weeks, I find myself off and on afraid that something will go wrong and the contract on our house will fall through again.

And we are aching, aching to be with family and friends, and with our church family there.

Speaking for myself, leading those precious hearts in worship — being a vessel to facilitate intimate encounter with the One who adores them so purely and fiercely — it’s been a burden of intercession I’ve carried before the Lord with varying degrees of intensity for the entire going-on-7 years we’ve been away from Littleton.

This morning I’m remembering my pregnancy with Isaac, how the final weeks leading up to his birth found me easily discouraged. Feeling unbearably full inside, like maybe the weight of this precious gift would never come out and I’d end up crushed by it somehow.

I’m thinking this waiting feels reminiscent of that.

And while part of me is genuinely excited and anticipating all that Jesus is leading us into in Colorado, another part of me is grieving over the length of our waiting, and wondering if it might never. ever. end.

But, there are autumn colors. And cooler temperatures. And a moon that stirs my soul. And there are warm scarves and warm cuddles and warm meals around our table with beloved family and friends.

And there is the movement of the Spirit in my deep places — this holy burning that reminds me that even — and maybe especially — in all the waiting and the stretching, I am alive inside. Deeply alive. White-hot alive.

He is unearthing and birthing and His commitment to that never-ending process in my core — it’s what keeps me breathing through this season. And it’s what will continue to keep me, regardless of whether our move goes through as we hope and plan, or not.

It’s where the realest Hope is found — in Him inside of me. In glory-to-glory transfiguration. In more of Him, less of me, and this ever increasing fullness of life.

So I’ll keep watching the moon and the colors and leaning into all this abundant beauty. And He’ll keep on breathing on this burning heart.

And I’ll live wholly alive — a life of burning, fragrant worship before Him — frailty and all.

P.S. So excited to be sharing this post with my friends in Lisha and Kelli’s communities on Sunday and Monday.

This entry was posted in Creativity, Encountering God in the Beautiful, Encountering God in the Mundane, Give Me Grace, Grief and Loss, Learning Authenticity, misc. walking with Jesus, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

31 Responses to When the Waiting Might Possibly Never End

  1. Joanne Viola says:

    Dana – So glad you will still write! You have blessed me with your words all this past month. Your words would so be missed! I am so grateful that our God takes the tiniest flicker inside of us and fans it till its full out burning. Blessings!
    Joanne Viola recently posted…TurnMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Joanne, you encourage my writer-heart so much, friend. Thank you. And me too – I am SO thankful He breathes on our little flickers. He is so faithful to keep our hearts like that, eh? Gah… His goodness just… wrecks me. Blessings back at you, sister!! So appreciate you.

  2. Marvia says:

    You are a beautiful soul!
    Marvia recently posted…Real Beauty {A Real Talk}My Profile

  3. Beth S. says:

    Such beauty in your words. I’m so in this place of more of Him, less of me so this jumped off your space … “It’s where the realest Hope is found — in Him inside of me. In glory-to-glory transfiguration. In more of Him, less of me, and this ever increasing fullness of life.” So good. Wishing you a peace-filled weekend. Blessings. xoxo
    Beth S. recently posted…Three Word Wednesday: A New Home {Giveaway}My Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Beth, you are so kind. Thank you. With you in that heart-cry for more of Him… Yes, Jesus. Let us decrease so you may increase.

      Peace to YOU this weekend as well, friend. xoxo

  4. Leah says:

    “To the type of beauty that rearranges and remakes me inside.” It’s this Beauty I hope in. Thank you for sharing your heart! I will pray for you these final weeks before your move. Transitions are always hard. Even when they’re good.
    Leah recently posted…I Turned Towards My Father, Repentant in Front of my ChildrenMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      So do I, sister. I hope in it too. Desperately. Firmly. He’s so faithful to show up this way. Thank you for your prayers, Leah, and for being here. You bless my heart, sister.

  5. Beth Hess says:

    Oh how I LOVE this definition of a good day: “Days my truest self has come out uninhibited, days I know that Jesus has reached out from inside me and touched deep places of others’ hearts. Those days are all at once exhilarating and terrifying, and they propel me to lean, lean, lean into the One who covers and defines me.”

    And, oh, the many other measures I often use to determine my feelings towards any particular day and the goodness or badness of it.
    Beth Hess recently posted…What “Fall Back” is Teaching Me about the Dark (Five Minute Friday: Turn)My Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Mmmm, yeah, that good day definition – I kind of almost didn’t realize I’d said that. :) But it’s so true – those are the best days, aren’t they? The ones where your truest self comes out and in reality HE comes out through you? Where you get to be who you *know* you were made to be? Anyway…. thanks for drawing that point out, Beth. As weird as it might sound since it’s my own writing, I think I needed to go back to it. :) Bless you, sister. So thankful you’re here.

  6. Tara says:

    Waiting can be so hard! It was only a year ago that I moved and to this day, I’m still grieving some of the things, people I left behind. Yet the grieving has been overshadowed by the joy; joy of my first house, joy of new friends and so much more. I wish I could meet you at Panera and let you lean/cry/whatever on my shoulder.

    Good and gracious God, in this time of waiting, calm Dana’s fears and grant her peace. Help her to fully trust in you and turn to you. Embrace her in her your loving arms. In your name I pray. Amen!!

    Love ya friend!!!
    Tara recently posted…The Turning of SeasonsMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Wow, Tara… only a year ago. I bet you really are still feeling all the bittersweet mixed-ness of those emotions. Also – I would do Panera with you in a heartbeat. :) Thanks for your prayers and for being here, sister. You bless my heart. Love to you!

  7. Gayl says:

    Waiting is almost always hard especially when there have been disappointments and part of you wonders if something will happen to make you wait longer. But I love what you said here, “…in all the waiting and the stretching, I am alive inside. Deeply alive. White-hot alive.” God is working in your lives and I pray His blessing upon you as you continue to wait and look forward to your move.
    Gayl recently posted…Rolling and TurningMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      YES. That, Gayl. The fear that something could happen – AGAIN. But He is calming that fear the last few days, and I am so thankful. And thankful He’s *got* us, no matter what happens. And yes, He does sustain my heart, sustain my alive-ness through all of this. Thanks for your prayers, Gayl. You bless my heart.

  8. Anita Ojeda says:

    I’m not a good waiter. I’m a whiney waiter, in fact. May God continue to make himself known as you wait. I have discovered that the waiting is where I do the most growing, the most knowing that the result is just. what. God. wanted.
    Anita Ojeda recently posted…An Unexpected Turn in ConversationMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Oh do I ever feel ya, Anita. I have had my whiney moments, days, weeks… through this season. I am so thankful though for how He does make Himself known in the waiting, and for how He grows me, like you said. Thankful for His faithfulness…. and for your words here tonight, friend. Really. Thank you.

  9. Sarah says:

    This long wait has been so hard. But, I will miss you when it’s over!!!! I love you, friend.
    Sarah recently posted…Having some fun!My Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      Goodness GRACIOUS I miss you, Sarah Bandimere. Holy cow. And will miss you MORE when we move. Also thank you for being here. :) And I love you. A heap.

  10. Mary Geisen says:

    Well “hi” friend! So blessed to be your neighbor at Lisha’s tonight! Your words on waiting are exactly how it feels- the tug this way and that, the yearning for the next step, the long days that extend into the more long days that never seem to reach the destination you are so desperately ready for. All of the struggles are wrapped up in the beauty you have discovered as you delight in fall in Kansas. God is blessing you with one more gift, one more reminder that He is in charge and one more time to remember the years in Kansas so you can take the memories with you. You are a treasure friend! Love you!
    Mary Geisen recently posted…Sunday Morning Always Comes-MercyMy Profile

    • danalynnb says:

      It’s so true, Mary. You articulate the waiting so well — the tugging, the yearning…. But I told Stan when we found out our contract was going to take MONTHS to go through — if we have to be in KC for a whole ‘nother season, I’m so thankful it’s fall. :) Thanks for being here tonight. Love you too, my friend!

  11. Dana, This is beautifully written. Waiting is difficult but like with pregnancy, the wait is worth it. Thank you for sharing this. I hope you write more! <3

  12. I’m sitting with you under a full moon Dana, looking up and through a brilliant splash of colorful leaves. And I’m moving forward. We’re moving forward even in the waiting. We’re learning and growing. He’s calling friend, don’t stop answering. Love the worship in your writing. Always.
    Lisha Epperson recently posted…Give Me Grace : Grounding : on Forgiveness {Day 14}My Profile

  13. Barbie says:

    Oh friend, I echo the struggle in your heart, yet it’s strangely freeing, isn’t it? I haven’t been able to write, and now I am in a little bit of a panic mode, launching a new site this week with a new domain name. I know God has a plan and maybe it’s not for me to fully know just yet. Today, I needed this reminder, “And there is the movement of the Spirit in my deep places — this holy burning that reminds me that even — and maybe especially — in all the waiting and the stretching, I am alive inside. Deeply alive. White-hot alive.” Love you Dana!
    Barbie recently posted…The Weekend Brew: The Way I Should GoMy Profile

  14. Liz says:

    Oh, do I ever know how you feel. After finishing the 31 Days I was spent. But there is a lingering sense that just because October is over, what God has asked me to do with my words is not. And the days since have been spent in a hypothetical fog.

    Glad to find you via Kelli’s linkup!
    Liz recently posted…Avoiding the HeavyMy Profile

  15. Lisa notes says:

    I love that you’ve been writing, reading, creating music. All those things nourish my soul too. I recently bought sheet music for my piano for the first time in a LONG time (It Is Well by Bethel–love it!).

    Keep watching the beauty! He will keep showing up.

  16. Sometimes it feels to me like we just move from waiting to waiting, like those full moon days of arrival don’t last hardly long enough. It’s not quite a solace, but I am finding that those days of waiting, groping about in the uncertain dark, can be a time of great fruitfulness for me – and yes, the waiting doesn’t seem to ease, but rather intensifies as it nears the end. BTW, that same full moon gave me fits as we usually sleep with our curtains open and its reflection off of the clouds made our room positively bright. Thanks for linking with Unforced Rhythms, Dana and for opening your heart to us all.
    Kelly Chripczuk recently posted…Morning DevotionsMy Profile

  17. Laura says:

    This is my first visit. You are a beautiful writer! I had the chance to go to CO for the first time (Fort Collins area) this summer, so I know what a special place CO is. It’s not always easy to be content where we are…I share in that struggle with you, sister! Hang in there.
    Laura recently posted…Expecting Too Much From Those We LoveMy Profile

  18. Dana,
    Your photos are gorgeous….and your words captured so well that feeling of waiting and the power of “beauty that rearranges and remakes me inside” as you put it :) May God continue to give you grace as you wait….waiting can be so hard ….
    Dolly@Soulstops recently posted…Do you trust the map? (& 1 Great Guide)My Profile

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