The Waiting Room

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. –Isaiah 40:31

I hate waiting.

Christmas Eve to Christmas morning…doctor’s appointments…test results…losing weight…shows to start…dinner to be made…grieving

I have always said, “I’m a buyer, NOT a shopper.”  I go in the store, find what I need, put it in the basket and walk up to the cash register and buy it and off I go.  I’m not one to put something in my cart, carry it around and think about it.  In other words, I make a decision, implement it and live with the consequences…and most have been great.

When my husband was ill, we spent a lot of time in waiting rooms and in doctor examination rooms.  For my husband, waiting was always the pre-cursor to bad news.  The more practice I got in waiting, I forced myself to use that time to breathe and think about blessings.  I would go over and over the list in my head as we waited, trying to add a blessing with each mental recitation.  Eventually, the news would come; then disappointment would flood through me.  My husband would thank the doctor and tell me, “It’s ok, Babe, remember, it’s all good!”  Then we would collect our things and walk to our as I tried to remember my mental list.

When my husband died, the whole grieving process was soooo long.  As far as I could see, sadness was my companion.  Endless days of what I’d lost and would never have again.  No longer tables for two, but evenings with an empty chair.  Waiting to feel better, happier, less lonely.  Just waiting.

I found myself wanting to just leave when these feelings enveloped me.  Much like Jonah, God had asked me to do something and I didn’t want to.  I wanted to flee.  I wanted to “tap out” as they say in wrestling.  Can’t I have another burden?  I want to have another trial, not this one.  Can’t God grow something else in me?

But Jonah rose up to flee… –Jonah 1:3

Much like Jonah, I found that the more I retreated from the grief “waiting room”, the more grief I felt.  It wasn’t until I stopped running and listened to what God wanted for me, that I found relief.  God often speaks most clearly in life’s “waiting rooms”.  It’s when we are quiet, open, vulnerable, and ready.

I have spent some beautiful time here with God in the “waiting room”.  I have changed.  I enjoy the wait now.  I’m not so quick to just make a decision and go with it.  I’m not saying I waffle in my decisions; just enjoy the process of making the decision.

I live in the Washington DC metro area.  It is 18 miles from my front door to the parking garage at work.  It takes between 40 minutes and 2 hours to get to work (one way) each workday.  People say to me all the time, “Don’t you just hate the commute?”  I have learned to be content with where I am.  If I am stuck in traffic, it must be where God needs me to be.  So, I try to glorify God in my commute.  I listen to music and worship Christ.  I call friends and family and catch up with them to let them know they are loved.  I have learned to be content in the “waiting room”.

I know my grief will end at the exact moment that God has grown me to where I need to be. Each day of grief is a chance to glorify God.  f I run from it, I don’t grow the way God wants me to.  I also don’t get to leave the “waiting room”.

Jonah eventually did as God asked and his obedience saved many people.  God has great plans for me…and you.

We won’t find it by hiding from Him or hiding from the growing that He needs us to do.

Turn around, walk towards the Savior and let Him walk with you through your grief.

God may be growing you to help someone else.

Dear Lord, Thank you for allowing me time to heal and for being with me in the waiting room.  Thank you for loving me enough to allow me time to grow and see the plan you have for my life.  Thank you for allowing me to experience love and for knowing that love was grounded in You.  I ask that you use me on this journey and that my walk through grief may be a light to someone else experiencing a similar journey.   Amen

From Archive:  Originally posted on awidowsmight.org in March 2014