the first delay

“build your miracle,” he said

and I said

I don’t think I can do that

…and he said,

yes you can… you just did. 


I was in the middle of ordering an internet modem on Amazon when the clock blinked 8:28 and I realized I was hungry for dinner.

Chipotle felt like a valid choice. I ordered it online. My tacos would be ready at 8:45.

It was a two minute walk to Chipotle, so I left at 8:42. I went into the hallway and realized I was wearing slippers, which would maybe be fine, except they were my furry pink bunny slippers and something about it just didn’t feel quite right.

The second delay.

8:44 on the dot, I walked into a near-empty Chipotle. The cashier stared over the counter at me.

“We have some bad news,” he paused. “we’re still waiting on the taco shells. Is five minutes okay?”

“Of course,” I said. He handed me a drink cup over the counter.

The third delay.

A rush of people flew through the door as I stood off to the side of the cashier. One after another, burrito bowls and sides of guac flew back through the door of which their new respective owners had just come through to retrieve them in the first place.

“Are you ever going to get your food?” someone asked me as they carried their burrito away. I laughed and smiled back.

The fourth delay. The fifth delay. The sixth, twelfth, fourteenth delay.

The more I stood there, the less hungry I got, thinking maybe I didn’t need this in the first place. The more I stood there, the more I pondered what stirred me to get tacos tonight.

8:57, 8:59. The line stops and the Chipotle opens up again. I’m staring out the window, sipping out of the cup of soda I didn’t order.

9:02. “Miss?” he says. “We gave you three tacos instead of the two you ordered.”

“Thanks!” I said. “Thanks a lot.”

As I carried my extra taco and extra soda back around the corner to my condo fifteen minutes later than expected, I felt Holy Spirit press a thought on my heart.

why did you like Build-A-Bear when you were growing up?

“um,” I thought back. “I’ll think.”

In my mind’s eye, I saw myself as a child, carrying the empty frame up to the stuffing machine. When I went, the stuffer “overstuffed” it. And rightfully so, because they soften up over time, but I wanted mine to be extra-squishy. Can you, uh, I look back at my mom. Can you take some of the stuffing out please? The stuffer is pulling out some of the stuffing and is throwing it into the trash can. I reach out and hug the animal again. Thanks, I’d say back.

“build your miracle,” he said

and I said

I don’t think I can do that

and he said,

you’ve done it before

and I said, what?

and he said,

what did you ask for at Chipotle?

I said, two tacos

and he said

did you see the finished animal when you picked up the frame of the animal at Build-A-Bear, or did you just love the frame?

I loved the finished animal, I said

and he said

what did you do to know what it would look like when it was finished, and were you wrong

and I said

I set an expectation

and he said

did you get what you asked for tonight

I said no

“build your miracle,” he said again

and I said

I can’t understand what you mean

and he said,

yes you can… you just did.

It was in my waiting that I received all the more that I did not ask for the in the first place. Had I gone to Chipotle in person, I would have likely changed my order and carried on my way. I did not. I arranged a delay and found that in it, God would work all the more. The more we ask for, the more He gives us, and maybe too, the more we wait. The more open we are to the time it takes, the more interruptive the miracles become.

I would choose on a good day a greater expectation with a greater wait time, knowing that I would receive more over choosing a low expectation with an instant satisfy.

It takes time to build.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s