A few years ago my wife and I took a trip out to Vegas. It was a pilgrimage if you will, as Vegas is one of the few locations globally that hosts several permanent Cirque Du Soleil shows. Yes, it’s true, my wife and I went to Vegas to see Cirque Du Soleil. We are Cirque heads, or Cirquees, or whatever you call people that are obsessed with an adult circus that charges an arm and a leg to see a show. Let it be known that we didn’t go to see just any show, we went to see O. The show of all shows, The Cirques of all Cirques.
Sure, we also saw Mystere (another Cirque Du Soleil show) while we were out there, but that was to be the appetizer to the sensory buffet known only as “O”.
So the day of the show arrives and we have to go stand in line at the Bellagio to obtain these tickets that we had reserved weeks in advance. The line was longer than I had expected but with three people working the counter, we were moving through the line at a pretty good clip. With only two people left in front of me the anticipation of receiving my tickets was almost more than I could stand. “I can help you over here, sir” I could hear one of the ladies say to the first person in line, leaving only one person standing between me and the mecca of Cirque fanatics.
“I’m sorry sir, we don’t seem to have your reservation on file,” I can hear the lady say to the guy that had just moved over to be helped. “Well, I made it,” He replied in a tone and volume that let everyone know that his plans to see O were not going to be thwarted by some silly reservation system. “Next in line please,” another lady working behind the counter said, and as the lady in front of me moved toward the desk, I now stood next in line to be helped. “I told you I made the reservation. HERE, this is the credit card I used!” yelled the guy with no reservation number – and apparently no seats.
“Next in line,” said the lady at the counter and as I stepped up to the open spot next to Mr. “No Seats” I give the lady my name, and the credit card I used to make the reservation.
“Well I made the reservation,” Mr. No Seats says to the woman behind the counter again, this time at a volume bordering on yelling. He is so loud, in fact, I almost can’t hear the lady behind the counter tell me she can’t find any tickets listed under my name.
“Excuse me?” I say, as I suddenly start to feel sympathetic for the guy next to me at the counter who at this point seems ready to start taking hostages. “I don’t see any reservations under your name or made with this credit card,” she says to me, probably still wondering if I am going to react like the guy next to me, who by the way is now demanding to speak to a manager. “Well, I made them,” I say with more of a tone of defeat than demand, to which she replies “I’m sorry,” she says. “We don’t have anything in the system under your name.”
So there I stood at the ticket desk in the Bellagio hotel in Vegas with two options. I could attempt to take control of the situation and start acting like the guy next to me or accept the fact that the show was “sold out” and they didn’t have my reservation in the system. I can tell you what I wanted to do. However, I am happy to report that instead of reading this girl the riot act I said “Well… it’s not your fault.” As I prepared to leave the ticket counter in defeat, the lady said “Give me one second sir, I want to go check something with my manager.” So she walks behind the girl that is still being yelled at by Mr. No Seats and disappears through a door only to return a few moments later with an envelope in hand.
“Thank you for waiting sir, it seems as if my manager was able to release these tickets for you. I do apologize for the misunderstanding and I hope you enjoy the show,” she said in a whisper, perhaps to ensure that the guy next to me didn’t hear what just happened. Then she handed me the envelope with two tickets to see O that night. If that wasn’t enough, the seats she gave us were in the 5th row and were dead center stage, far better than the tickets that I had reserved or should I say the tickets I thought I reserved.
I tell that story because as we prepare for our two week series “Waiting on God”, we often think that when God doesn’t respond to us right away or give us exactly what we want, that somehow He’s shortchanging us. We act like that guy next to me in line waiting to get Cirque tickets. We feel that we need to get involved, insert ourselves into the process, we need to take charge of the situation, we need to make sure things work out the way we want them to. In short we would rather play God than wait on Him.
What if God wanted us to wait on Him, not because He was trying to shortchange us, but because His plans were far greater than anything we could even imagine? From landing the big deal to getting diagnosed with cancer, maybe God is asking us to wait on Him because He is at work in the middle of all of our situations working out results far greater than ones we could ever produce on our own.
If you can wait until Wednesday we will talk more about it then. Invite a friend out as we start our new two weeks series “Waiting on God”…
D.R.