I play the waiting game. Waiting for the light to change. Waiting for my phone to ring. Waiting for my coffee to brew and waiting to wake up one day found perfect. I'm waiting for righteousness to clothe me, to be credited to me, and to be the legacy behind me.

Today I am reading in Micah, chapter 7:

He will bring me out to the light, and I will see His righteousness.

The funny thing is, even when I'm dwelling in darkness I can still see what is bathed in light. A small light goes a long way. Yet when I'm brought out into the light it's not my righteousness that becomes evident, it's His.

See, I'm still here, twiddling my thumbs and kneading my knots out of my flesh. I'm still here practicing good character and stepping up to the plate. I'm here just waiting, waiting because it's good to wait you see. It's good to not pluck that fruit before its time. And it's good to not rush the game, good guys finish last we know from middle school and marriage proposals. But on the other end of waiting, on the other end of coming out, it's not us who gets completed. It's Him.

And something about that makes this, all of this, much more doable. It's not my righteousness I'm waiting for, it's His I'm walking in.