I'm In A Hurry (And Don't Know Why)

 

The Safety of Slowness: Waiting on the Lord

Introduction: The Call to Slowness

In our fast-paced world, we are conditioned to crave instant results. We want healing now, answers now, community now, and the Kingdom now. Yet, the scriptures and modern revelations teach us a profound truth: there is safety in slowness, power in patience, and divine protection in waiting on the Lord.

The vision recorded in Teachings and Commandments 163 paints a vivid picture of this principle. In it, the Lord brings chosen individuals to a narrow pass leading to the mountain of the Fathers—a place of glory and divine communion. He instructs them to wait for Him, but many, consumed by their eagerness to ascend, rush forward. Their haste leads to destruction, as a great beast guarding the path devours them. Only one man, kneeling in patient faith, waits for the Lord’s guidance. When the Lord returns, He takes the man by the hand, leading him safely past the beast—unseen and unharmed. Upon reaching the Fathers, they marvel: “How came you to be here and yet mortal?” His answer is simple: “I waited on the Lord, and He brought me here safely.”

This vision isn’t just about salvation; it’s about divine timing and trust. It warns against the peril of spiritual haste and underscores the quiet strength of restraint.

The Peril of Haste

Rushing is a human instinct. When we see brokenness within ourselves or around us, we want to fix it immediately. When we glimpse the glory of Zion or the promise of divine connection, we often charge ahead. But as T&C 163 illustrates, forcing our way through the narrow pass without the Lord’s guidance risks destruction—the beast in the pass devours those who move ahead on their own.

T&C 176 further echoes this theme through the vivid parable of the "tree people":

One group hastily gathered wood, believing they had what was needed—but the land had no trees, so “their tools were of no use.”

Others assumed stones would be required—but found none at the site.

Only when some paused, surveyed the chosen place, and discovered clay, did they begin preparing there—building with bricks “from what we have found … on his chosen spot.”

Their story teaches: zeal without divine direction leads to wasted effort, confusion, and disappointment.

The Power of Waiting

Waiting on the Lord is not passive resignation; it is an active exercise of faith. The man who waited didn’t simply sit idly—he knelt, prayed, and trusted. His patience was not a lack of action but a deliberate choice to align his will with God’s. When the Lord returned, the man was ready, and the Lord led him safely through the danger.

This principle applies to every aspect of our lives. Are we rushing to heal a broken heart, forcing solutions before the Lord has prepared the way? Are we anxious to build community or gather with others, only to find ourselves misaligned with God’s plan? Waiting on the Lord requires us to trust that His timing is perfect, even when we can’t see the path ahead. It invites us to cultivate a living, kneeling faith—one that listens, prepares, and moves only when He moves.

In English, “waiting” has a double meaning. To “wait” can mean to delay movement or progress—but it can also mean to serve. A waiter doesn’t disappear when a customer sits down. A good waiter is attentive, responsive, returning again and again to ask, “What do you need? May I refill your glass? How can I serve you better?” To wait on the Lord is to watch for His cues, to check in frequently, to serve His purposes with readiness and humility.

This kind of waiting isn’t idle. It’s watchful. It says, “I’m here, Lord—ready to respond. I trust Your timing, but while I wait, I’ll keep the oil in my lamp, my eyes on You, and my heart open to Your will.”

The Patient Path

I had a dream when I was young. In it, Jesus rowed a small wooden boat, and I sat across from Him as we drifted down a tranquil stream. The water shimmered under a soft light, and in the distance, an island bloomed with vibrant flowers, their colors dancing in the breeze. But His steady rowing felt too slow for my restless heart. Impatient, I leapt from the boat and swam to the island alone.

At first, it was breathtaking—petals glowing like stained glass. But as I wandered deeper, the beauty turned treacherous. Thorns snagged my skin, and a rash bloomed from brushing a deceptively lovely vine. I couldn’t tell which plants were safe and which were poison. When Jesus arrived, His presence calm and sure, I saw my mistake. Had I stayed with Him, He would have guided me—His wisdom lighting a peaceful path through the tangle.

Back in the boat, the scene repeated. Another island sparkled ahead, its shores glinting like scattered diamonds. Again, my impatience won. I dove into the water, chasing the gleam. But the gems were sharp, the ground unforgiving. Some stones shone falsely, worthless beneath their dazzle. I was lost in the confusion until Jesus found me. In His steady gaze, I saw the pattern: my haste led to hardship, robbing me of the lessons He longed to share.

A third time, we floated on. A new island appeared—radiant, lush, a vision of paradise that stirred my soul. Every fiber of me ached to leap. But I paused. I looked at Jesus, His eyes warm with knowing. This time, I saw beyond my impatience to its root: doubt. I hadn’t trusted Him to lead me to what I desired most. So I stayed, fixing my gaze on Him as we rowed forward together. A quiet certainty settled in me. With Him, the destination would surpass my dreams—and I would arrive whole, ready, and safe.

Lessons for Today

The accounts in T&C 163 and T&C 176, along with the parable of this dream, offer practical insights for our spiritual journeys:

• Discern between zeal and faith. Zeal can be impulsive, driven by our desires or anxieties. Faith is rooted in trust and surrender to God’s will.
• Don’t mistake motion for progress. Selling our homes, rushing to gather, or forcing solutions may feel productive, but without divine guidance, we risk building on shaky foundations.
• Waiting is not wasted time. It is a sacred space where we grow in trust, refine our hearts, and prepare for the Lord’s hand to lead us.

Reflective Questions

As you ponder these lessons, consider:

• Where in my life am I trying to rush the process? Are there areas where impatience is driving my decisions, whether in relationships, personal growth, or spiritual pursuits?
• Have I mistaken zeal for faith? Am I acting out of enthusiasm or anxiety rather than trusting in God’s guidance?
• What would it mean for me to truly wait on the Lord? How can I cultivate a posture of active, faithful waiting in my daily life?

A Prayer for the Patient Path

Lord,

I see the shore and long to leap,
But I do not want to be devoured by haste.
Teach me to wait—not with passive resignation,
but with living, kneeling faith.
Help me not to leap from the boat,
no matter how beautiful the shore may seem.
Let me keep my eyes on You.

For I trust that Your timing is perfect.
In You, I wait. Amen.

Conclusion

The safety of slowness is a divine principle. Whether we’re rebuilding a broken heart, fostering community, or working toward Zion, the Lord invites us to wait on Him. In a world that glorifies speed, this is a radical act of faith. By trusting in His timing, we align ourselves with His protection and guidance, ensuring that we reach the mountain of the Fathers not by our own strength, but by His hand.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of hurry. As the old country song puts it, “I rush and rush until life's no fun. All I really gotta do is live and die—but I'm in a hurry and don't know why.” That lyric captures the strange tension we all feel—the pressure to sprint, even when we don’t know where we’re going or why we’re in such a rush.

Maybe it's time to slow down, breathe, and row with the Lord instead of racing ahead.

For further reflection, read the full texts of Teachings and Commandments 163 and 176.