After making almost 70 hurried revolutions around the sun I have concluded that I was born in a hurry and have never recovered. When Pat and I window shop on the quaint streets of our hometown or enjoy an evening on the ocean boardwalk Pat must hold on or we are each walking alone. It has always been hard for me to move slowly, though newly-discovered balky joints and achy parts have sent a different series of messages about my movements.
Have you ever noticed how many times in baseball the count on a batter goes to three and two? People born in a hurry notice things like that! Miguel Cabrera often runs the count to three and two, especially if the bases are loaded with two outs and the game is tied. When that happens the opposing team sends out for sandwiches and their manager begins writing out his lineup card for the next game. A "W" is about to be entered in the Tigers’ win column, but not for another 20 minutes! The triple-crown winner will foul off eight, nine or more pitches waiting for the pitch to be in his sweet spot!
Ashamedly wearing the crown of "Mr. Impatient," when Cabrera is batting and the count reaches three and two, I leave the room, get a dish of ice cream and mosey back to my seat awaiting the inevitable triumph of my beloved Tigers. The three-two count is too painfully slow for me to watch. Ball after ball being sprayed in every direction except where it will do some good is a delay I never have appreciated.
When I met with my friend Habakkuk this morning, "Hab" for short, he and I admitted our tendency to being in a hurry. In a newer version, Hab acknowledged, "How long, O Lord, must I call for help?"1 There is a little of the Hab trait in all of us. "Come on God, how long are going to keep me waiting?" Is it far-fetched to accuse God of fouling off too many pitches when it is in His power to satisfy our time line? Have you ever felt like saying, "I know you will do the right thing God, so, just do it?" I have come close. No, I’ve done it! (Telling the truth feels better.)
Waiting isn’t so bad when the outcomes are of little consequence, like the outcome of a ball game. But, Habakkuk and I have agreed that unresolved violence, unfairness, and injustice are worthy of calls for God to hurry up! Sin and misery ought not be taken lightly. Street fighting and endless arguments wear one down and chip away at the morale of communities. I know. I lived in Philadelphia where the whole traffic court system is being dismantled by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania because of blatant corruption and flagrant injustice.
Mr. Impatient here wonders, "How many more men will plead guilty to a crime they didn’t do in order to avoid a longer sentence for another crime they also didn‘t do?" Too often bribes and trickery rule the day.2 If one can afford an expensive lawyer, penalties are seldom more than a slap on the wrist. Some court-appointed attorneys have been known to appear in court unprepared, indifferent and eager to settle a case quickly in order to collect fees and recover costs. The urge is to scream, "UNFAIR!" But, no one is listening!
Have you prayed for a resolution to a problem, the salvation of a lost friend or child for what seems like an eternity? Are you held captive in a cave of ambiguity, in a place of hopelessness? Is God fouling off balls on a three-two count when He could just as easily hit one out of the park for us? Habakkuk dared to write it down first. I’m a mimic. I told my friend Hab this morning, "Thank you for saying it first." The next time Hab and I meet, I’ll ask the timeless prophet to share how he coped with late-inning delays.3
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