is excruciating sometimes.
everyday we wait. we wait for the green light. we wait in line. we wait for class to start (and end). we wait to be called. we wait to be heard. we wait for the microwave to warm our lunch. we wait for water to get warm to take a shower.
that kind of waiting isn’t excruciating to me. it’s menial and boring and can be frustrating…but not excruciating.
i’m finding that, more and more, i spend a lot of my life waiting…for nothing at all. for no reason. for something big to happen, for my life to change, or this or that to begin.
we wait for new football seasons to begin. we wait for new job opportunities. we wait for a phone call. we wait for the past to come back and haunt us. we wait for a ring. we wait for a yes or a no. we wait to find out what’s next.
and we wait for God to speak. because somehow we have fallen prey to this idea that when God speaks, when new things happen and start–that’s when life is lived. in new jobs and marriages and relationships and schools and friendships.
He’s there, in all of those things. but more than that, i think it’s in the waiting–the excruciating, painful, debilitating waiting–that God is really present, and really there. that He’s whispering songs of joy and sustaining in the midst of hardship and uncertainty. that He’s speaking words of peace and wisdom into those moments where we must choose to cling to Him and forget the swirling struggles of the world.
i’ve also learned that i’ve spent a lot of my life waiting for no reason. i’ve spent a lot of my life waiting to live, when really living…is here. and now.
when it’s over, i want to say: all my life
i was a bride married to amazement.
i was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
when it is over, i don’t want to wonder
if i have made of my life something particular, and real.
i don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
i don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.