The aurora borealis made an appearance in Madison, last Friday night. Tons of breathtaking pictures flooded social media. My phone dinged in the middle of the night with a notice from my mom telling me to go outside and view the lightshow. Sadly, my brain incorporated her text into my dream, and I saw an imagined lightshow in my dreamworld all night long.

Saturday morning, a meteorologist stated there could be a chance to see the aurora borealis that night, but there was no guarantee. Determined to try, I took a nap and ventured upstairs to my office to busy myself for the three hours of waiting. The boys watched a silly movie in another room and I sat, staring at my desk.

Normally, I’d read a book or finish a short writing, then head to bed. But rarely did I have three hours all to myself. So, I asked God what I should do.

For those of us who write, we understand the reality of sitting at our desks. Some days we excitedly pull up our chairs and try to form cohesive sentences, but nothing of value emerges. And sometimes nothing comes out at all. Then there are those days. The ones where words pour out with such intensity and speed that our hand cramps up. We can’t finish one thought before the next one is already hot on its heels. It was one of those nights.

Ideas poured. Blank sheets of notebook paper laid marked and scattered in makeshift organized chaos on my desk. A project I didn’t even know I needed to start took shape before my eyes and an outline so clear I couldn’t deny it was God’s hand guiding every stroke.

When I finally got to a stopping point, I almost forgot why I’d stayed up in the first place. The three hours flew by, my mind spun with excitement, and I knew what project I needed to focus on.

I organized my piles and hurried downstairs to watch the lightshow. But the spray of colors never came. When sleepy eventually set in, I left the curtains open, hoping the lights would wake me up in the night and I could catch a glimpse. But nothing happened and I slept through the night.

Normally I would have been disappointed that I spent all that time waiting on midnight. I would have been frustrated that I lost sleep for nothing. But this time was different. Saturday night was never actually about the aurora borealis—it was about the waiting and what God wanted me to do during that time.

This weekend is such a reminder that God doesn’t waste the waiting. He has something important there for us. Something we would have never done had we not been faced with the waiting in the first place.

Are you stuck in the waiting? Or are you taking advantage of the waiting? The choice is yours. You gotta’ sit there, why not make the most of it?