Waiting undoes me.
They promised snow, the thick, wet kind, which sends all good Southerners scurrying for bread and milk. They said if you lived in the shaded blue area with tiny crisscrosses, expect at least ten inches to fall on your head. Immediately. They said to expect power outages.
The snow hasn’t arrived, and so we wait with bathtubs full of water and sleds itching to race down the street.
But this isn’t about waiting for the snow, it’s about waiting in life.
It’s about waiting for the guy or the degree or the tiny life inside of you to arrive. Waiting for a job or a response. Waiting for test results. Waiting for a sign, which tells you to push forward or retreat to safety.
I am waiting for the house to wake up so I can make French toast (what else am I going to do with all of the bread?). In thirteen hours, I will be waiting for the house to go to sleep (oh, a solid five minutes of glorious silence).
And here comes the part about being undone.
In the waiting is where I start to itch, to feel uncomfortable. It’s where I decide to listen to every Eagles song ever made, and then rank them, twice.
It’s where I doubt what I have scrawled on my bathroom mirror.
. . . I know what I am doing. I have it all planned out, plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. Jeremiah 29:11
In the waiting, I act on my own. I walk outside in my pajamas and stand on the dark, front porch willing the sky to sputter white flakes. I watch cars drive by, and I squint my eyes in an attempt to find ten inches of snow on the hood of my neighbor’s car.
But white flakes don’t fall from above and neither do answers.
God allows me to wait.
It’s His way of saying “Back off.”
I don’t like to back off. I try to tell God I am more of a jumper in-er. He doesn’t listen.
I hope you aren’t expecting a sweet lesson at the end of this post because I refuse to tell you how much I am growing in the waiting.
Instead, I will tell you a good friend dropped this scarf off at my house yesterday.
It is the best scarf ever created, and I plan on wearing it every day for the rest of my life. It is both knit and sheer. Plus, it is grey. Plus, it contains a combination of brown and cream stripes and dots. Plus, it matches everything.
It’s not what I was waiting for, but I love it just the same.
This scarf reminded me about surprises which come in the waiting, which by the way, is not a sweet lesson about waiting, but merely a fact.
Your turn. Tell me about the waiting you are doing. Tell me about a time in which you waited for an answer. Tell me you like my new scarf.
Linking with Sharita.