The Delayed Chariot: Why God's Answers Tarry

"Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?" This language of Sisera's mother—hopeful yet half-despairing—echoes through multitudes in the stern fight of existence and the moral campaign of consecrated life. When Elohim tarries in His pavilion of cloud, withholding both Himself and His blessings, our hearts struggle and our lips quiver with wondering desire: "Why?"

God stays not from us as Sisera stayed—a dismounted general, a slain warrior. Men fall, but He never. He always possesses sublime design in His tarrying, good and satisfactory reason for His delay, which He does not always make known. We must spell it out ourselves.

He tarries to do us good, not to taunt; to check our impatience and correct our hurrying spirit, not to discourage or distress. His coming shall be as the morning—fresh, fragrant, and radiant.

The Church militant, for nearly nineteen centuries, has breathed the prayer her Founder commanded: "Thy kingdom come." She plaintively asks, "Why does my Lord delay His coming?" Critics label Christianity's progress a failure—yet slowness of growth proves nothing. Are not the greatest works of Elohim and man the result of slow processes? Must corn be pronounced failure because it does not wave in golden harvests after one night's growth? Patience reveals God's perfect timing.