THE WAITING ROOM

I drive 20 miles one direction to work.  People do not drive the speed limit either.  For a highly impatient person such as myself, it is extremely irritating.  On average I would guess I pass four people each direction in my coming and going from work.  I also don't do well waiting in the doctor's office, the dentist, in a huge line in a store, in a traffic/construction jam.  Waiting in those instances just seems so totally wasted and purposeless.  I don't do well if there isn't a purpose - shopping also falls under a purposeless activity for me :)  Years ago, being seriously ill and having been taken out of the lanes of traffic for a very long extended period, I began to look at what was really frustrating me about being ill and not being able to participate in life.  Obviously it was many reasons; physical pain, not being able to do the things that brought me great pleasure, standing still and watching everyone around me move and live, having my world shrink so small that thinking how to get my clothes on became a huge mind altering task, fear that it would never change-I would never get strong and well again.  One particular winter day, I laid on the floor in my sun room over the heat register vent with pillows shoved under every part of my frail body to ease the pain I was in.  As I laid there, honestly too sick to even hold up the book I was attempting to read, I thought about my frustration of illness.  I was waiting to get well.  I was waiting for my life to return to me.  I was waiting for God to heal me.  I was waiting for the medicine to work, waiting for the excruciating pain to abate.  I was waiting for tomorrow hoping it would be better than today was.  I was waiting for my then husband to care give and love me during this period of really needing him.  I was waiting on myself to come to terms with what if it never changed - what if I never got better than this day on the floor unable to hold the book.  I pulled myself back a little further from the equation and saw that panoramically all of life is about waiting.  I mean, hadn't all of my life been like that - just waiting on all kinds of things.  Waiting to grow up enough to not have to ride the school bus, date, drive, be independent, get married, have children, get the job you want, make enough money, waiting for your kids to get independent, unable to make a decision because it hinged on waiting for a circumstance to change-an event to happen, waiting on love to come, waiting to be able to purchase a house, a car, waiting on illness to leave, waiting for someone's behaviors to change, waiting on sorrow to lessen its grip on our hearts, waiting to grow up, waiting to retire, waiting ultimately in line to die.  Laying there I began to see that God must have some wild hair purpose in giving all of us lives where all we do is wait.  That day I clearly saw all of life as a sort of a "waiting room" if you will.  But why, I asked God laying there.  What purpose would He have to make the whole earth operate in a literal waiting room?   Waiting for me, if I am forced to wait long enough (in traffic, in illness, etc...) , causes me to eventually realize nothing is in my control.  Ah, God uses waiting to show us constantly He controls things.  But, also that in waiting we find things we wouldn't if we were moving - treasures like contentment and trust.  One of our clients called this week and in conversation shared a frustration of waiting on something in his life.  I could tell he was discouraged.  I shared with him about the "Waiting Room" of life.