Waiting

It is late August; the air is thick with heat and humidity. A slight breeze gently blows by, doing nothing to cool the air but simply stirring the thick humidity. I am looking across the way at a handful of trees whose leaves have already begun their transition from brilliant green to a greenish yellow. The trees embody the symbol of fall and the relief from the heat so many of us are waiting for.

Waiting for the seasons to change, whether spiritual or earthly is hard. The longing might nearly drive you mad but when the season takes the turn and there is suddenly relief from the heat or the cold we breathe a deep sigh of relief and turn our attention to some other form of waiting. Waiting, it takes up a significant chunk of our lives and yet we tend to be quite terrible at it. I have been known to say that I don't like online ordering because I don't want to wait the two plus days it takes to get my items delivered to me. I want my purchases now, not later. Typing this out now is causing me to internally cringe. How can I be so selfish? And how can I be so frighteningly addicted to instant gratification?

I am currently reading, on suggestion from my counselor, When the Heart Waits: Spiritual Direction for Life's Sacred Questions by Sue Monk Kidd. She delves deep into questions of spiritual waiting and the seasons of life where we are called to wait in the midst of unknowns and called to discover God in those moments. Everything she writes sticks out to me and if I could, I would highlight full pages of the book because there is that much wisdom loaded onto them. She poignantly writes, "We live from peak event to peak event, from brightness to brightness, resisting the flat terrain of ordinary time--the in-between time. Waiting is the in-between time. It calls us to be in this moment, this season, without leaning so far into the future that we tear our roots from the present. When we learn to wait, we experience where we are as what is truly substantial and precious in life (Sue Monk Kidd, p. 37).

I am being called to wait. I am in my final year of seminary and all I want is to move onto the next peak event, graduation and then the next, moving, and the next, getting a job and this list goes on and on. I, like so many, fall into the dangerous trap of believing things will always be better in the future. Things will always be better later rather than now and all I end up doing is wasting precious moments of glittering ordinary things that make up a beautiful life by wishing to be in the future.

If I am not careful, I might miss the sheer magic of eating dinner outside on the porch on a surprisingly pleasant late August night, in my desperation for fall. I don't want to do that. I don't want to wish away all my time to reach the time I've wished for to only wish for another time; living into a vicious cycle.

The waiting is, as Sue Monk Kidd expresses, the in-between time. That time where our lives actually happen. And I cannot keep wishing for the next peak event. I want fall to come; I am ready for big cozy jumpers (sweaters) and I long to drink hot tea and not sweat while doing so. But wishing away now is not worth it. I can actively wait for the peak events and the season's change by choosing to slow down and savor my spaghetti bolognese in shorts and a t-shirt on a pleasant late August night. Choosing to actually live my life and allow the waiting period to challenge me, grow me, and push me to be more and more present to each and every magical moment there is.

What are you waiting for in your own life? Do you find that you are wishing away precious moments of time by hoping to skip over the waiting period? Is there something you need to learn by living more present within the waiting? What might happen if we all lived out the waiting periods of our life with eyes searching with wonder and hearts fully open to the places we find ourselves?

I am in a waiting period of my life. I am not just waiting for the earthly season to change, no, I am waiting for the next season of life and excitement to come--but I think I hear a faint whisper saying, "not yet." So, instead of doing what I normally do and wish away my precious time, I am going to actively wait and choose to keep showing up to even the most mundane of moments with an open and grateful heart trusting that even in my periods of waiting God can truly be found.

Peace, blessings, and so much love,

Margaret