Act Two: The Wait

In screenwriting, it’s often said that Act Two is the hardest to write. The first act sets everything up–you meet the characters, see the "before" picture, discover a problem. The third act is the action-pack resolution. Misunderstandings are resolved, identities revealed, foes defeated, the guy finally gets the girl. But oh, how I hate Act Two.

In screenwriting, it’s often said that Act Two is the hardest to write. The first act sets everything up–you meet the characters, see the "before" picture, discover a problem. The third act is the action-pack resolution. Misunderstandings are resolved, identities revealed, foes defeated, the guy finally gets the girl. But oh, how I hate Act Two.

Act Two is the in-between–filled with conversations rather than car chases, research rather than resolution. It’s the home of the montage when the writer wants to skip the "growing relationship phase". It’s the period between the set-up and the climax.  It’s the waiting. 

I’m not a fan of waiting–I don’t want a second act. I want Abraham and Sarah to get pregnant right after God’s announcement. I want David to rule immediately. I want to hurry up and get to the good part now. 

But most of life, of faithfulness, is in Act Two.  The calling’s heady. The fulfillment is action-packed. But character is made and revealed in between.

Each time I enter Act Two, I’m taken off guard (I’m a slow learner). The wait, the delayed gratification, the waning of adrenaline surprises me. "But God, I thought we were going to do this now…" It’s a let down, and it’s harder. When God calls me to something, I screw up my courage and resolve and I’m ready to go. Right then. Anytime now. Let’s go. I feel like a racehorse before the gate’s lifted. My excitement could carry me all the way through.

But God doesn’t want excitement. He wants obedience. And so He lets the excitement get a little stale, lets the new-call smell dissipate. He calls us to a less exhilarating obedience–that daily walk of faithfulness. 

In Act Two, He calls us to trust Him to do what He said He’d do. If our lives were a movie, this would be the montage of us learning, day after day, to stop forcing the plan and to let God be God. In my personal montage, you’d see me learning to stop running into doors that aren’t open yet (and to stop trying to pick the lock). Consistency, trust, patience isn’t riveting, but it is obedience. 

Welcome to Act Two.

Ps 33:22