Not really sure how I came across this job, but during college I had the privilege of nannying three young children. Silly as it sounds, even after all these years I still think of those kiddos, especially the oldest and the only girl, Megan. 
 
We looked nothing alike and yet I'd swear we were cut out of the same fabric, if God operates that way. She ordered her little brother around—ahem—much as I ordered my little brother around at her age. And she could tend to be a bit on the dramatic side. One day she dashed into the room, eyes sparkling with a grin as large as Rhode Island and squealed, "I'm so exciting!” I'm sure she meant to say "excited", but in reality, both were true in my eyes.
 
The thing that made me look forward to our time together was the simple fact that the stage beckoned Megan at least once a week. She loved to put on a show for her beloved audience, which consisted of me, the baby, her middle brother (for at least the first ten seconds before he started his self-proclaimed intermission) and maybe the cat. 
 
The fireplace mantel transformed into the stage, and Megan would belt out at the top of her lungs, the blood vessels around her neck about to explode, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love yaaaa, tomorrow . . .” Her vibrato echoed through the living room like a tiny earthquake, making ringlets that covered her head dance in perfect timing. 
 
I loved that girl. 
 
On Megan's birthday her parents were both working, so I had “celebrate Meagan” duty. I could hardly wait. 
 
When I walked in the door, I played it cool. I wished Megan happy birthday and told her I had a present for her. 
 
Her mouth gaped open as wide as her eyes. She held little fists to her chin and shook as she said, "I'm so exciting!” 
 
I explained that she’d need to wait, which of course she explained that now would be a great time to have her gift. With all my heart I wanted to give her the package and see her face light up at the sight of the surprise. 
 
Her big blue eyes almost wore me down. But I knew if she’d hold on just one hour, her level of enjoyment would multiply ten-fold. I bent down to look her square in the eyes and clasped her tiny hands into mine. “Megan, trust me. If you’ll wait, you won’t be disappointed. Promise.” By this time, I had a twinkle in my eyes.
 
Reluctantly, she crawled into bed for her nap, and I shut the door.
 
When Megan and Dillion woke up they peeked around the corner, eyes growing wider every second as they absorbed the scene before them. Dollar tree crape paper and balloons never looked so fun. The cake and present display topped off the dining table like the perfect lipstick on a beautiful face. Soon squeals and laughs filled that small house with the pure joy of someone who trusted and waited. 
 
We had a smashing, good time! I'm so glad I didn't give in, and I'm so glad that Megan trusted my judgment and waited.
 
I think of that story often because so many times I don't understand what God is doing. I can see things that should be or that He promised would be, but yet, are not. 
 
I believe He loves me. Shoot, if I could love Megan and her brothers enough to die for them—I would’ve covered their tiny bodies with mine to protect them— how much more must God love me? And you too, by the way. 
 
So often, I'm just like Megan. I do not understand why I can't have it now. Didn’t God promise?
 
I find comfort in reflecting on this birthday scene. I wanted nothing more for Megan and Dillion than the highest enjoyment I could muster. How could God desire any less for us? God knows, if we'll just trust Him it will be worth the wait. 
 
So, hold on my friend. God can see much further down the line than we can. His plan is good and somehow everything does work together for the good. Don't know how, but He promised.

 "As for God His way is perfect. The word of the LORD is tried. He is a buckler to those who trust in Him.” Ps. 18:30. 
 

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”  Isaiah 55: 8&9.

Jesus never changes and His mercies are new every morning. 

Hope & Glory to you my friend!