waiting away.

Our lives revolve around waiting. We wait for the light to turn green, for the clock to strike six so we can leave our offices, for "mister right" to enter our lives and swoop us off our feet. We wait for telephone calls, for the latest gadgets, for birthdays, anniversaries -- you get the point.

Some of us despise waiting. It annoys us to have to wait in line, or to be served last. Some of us get so frustrated by the need to wait that we find ourselves "lashing out" at whoever will take the fall. "We should not have to wait," we tell ourselves, and in the process, we cling onto the notion that waiting is bad. Waiting is useless. Waiting has no purpose. We kick and scream, because, well, "we should not have to wait!"

Or so I thought.

I've never been one to be annoyed about having to wait in line, or waiting for a friend. But in this season of my life, "waiting" has taken on an entirely new meaning. It's like I'm waiting, but I have no idea what I am waiting for. Will I figure out where my "niche" is in this place? Will I find a job? Will I ever get over X, Y, Z? Who am I? You know, all of those fun questions that everyone loves to answer when asked. I am at a stand still, and my natural reaction is to lash out and try to do something about it. You know... fill my schedule with "things" that make the pain of not knowing less heart wrenching. Less obvious. Less lonely. I know that's not healthy, but it's all I know to do.

And then I come across books, like Sue Monk Kidd's "When the Heart Waits," that advocate for the waiting process, as if it is some kind of great and wonderful season that purges the "dark holes" in us and thrusts us into the future, transformed and new. I am not angry with her book, or with her for that matter. Her book is so powerful and distrupting to what I thought my heart was doing right... so much so that I have made it through a mere 34 pages in the past three months. Nope - not mad at Sue, just mad that I am still waiting.

It's not fun.
It feels chaotic, and boring, and confusing.
Sue assures me that it is necessary.
Sue assures me that I shouldn't be afraid of the "pause."
Sue assures me that waiting is not "doing nothing."
Waiting is doing something. MORE than doing something.
It's letting God speak to you; it's being still, and resting in what you do know.
It's letting go of control. Admitting that you cannot do it all.
Did I mention it's not fun?

Nope, not fun at all.

Yet here I remain.... waiting away.