Waiting rooms have got to be some of the strangest places. These usually poorly decorated spaces filled with people all experiencing various levels of anxiety, all awaiting some sign or signal that there has been a shift… good, bad, or indifferent.
Whether it’s the arrival of a new child to a family, or the progress during a loved one’s operation, a diagnosis being delivered, or the cost of damage at the mechanic, there can be an extreme amount of intensity in that space of waiting. The tension lies in the unknown. With no definitives on timelines, the wait can be excruciating, even when we know the outcome to be positive. Have you ever spent any time with a pregnant woman nearing the end of her last trimester? Due dates mean little while she waits to hold her child outside of her body.
The same can be said as we await the arrival of our “promise.”
I find myself in waiting. But I don’t exactly know what it is I’m waiting for and perhaps that’s where my restlessness lies.
Waiting is a part of every day life. Like waiting for the next cool front to make an appearance here in South Florida, or dinner to be delivered. But this feels so much more uncertain and in the uncertainty I am growing frustrated. I can’t be the only one.
Yes, there are the tangible intangibles if you will, like my life companion, or the dream job. But this feels far less palpable. It’s an underlying discontent and the mounting pressure for SHIFT to happen.
There’s a level of helplessness that plagues this current season of waiting for me. The overwhelming need for me to be in control or in proximity to control has been a stumbling block to me a time or two and probably most of the reason I am still single, lol.
Helplessness feels so victimizing. But to those who navigate waiting well, there is a simple but albeit intimidating word that is far more empowering…surrender. It can be beautiful. What makes it beautiful is that it is your choice to raise the white flag or to keep fighting.
I don’t mean to over spiritualize any of this. But I am tired of fighting and I am choosing to embrace surrender. I am tired of fighting for approval, tired of putting up a front, tired of comparison. I am tired of proving my worth and tired of settling for less. I am choosing to find rest in the waiting. But before you get cozy, this restful waiting is not passive.
It’s a pro-active act. Positioning and preparing myself to receive said “promise.” And with my hands (so to speak) raised in surrender I am better positioned to hold on to it once it arrives. And if I know anything to be true, it’s that if I’ve waited this long, it has got to be worth it.
So in the waiting, I’m not waiting.