Waiting. Waiting waiting waiting.

Waiting is something almost no one would choose to do but somehow it seems that everyone experiences a lot of it one way or another.

Waiting is the absence of something happening. Waiting is being acutely aware of a lack of movement, development, or change. Waiting is nothing. Waiting means you’re expecting something and it’s not here. Waiting means you’d rather be in a different state, situation, or set of circumstances than you currently are. Waiting means that there is something amiss about you or the things around you.

Waiting is being told to knock and then hearing door after door slam. Waiting is wondering whether perhaps you aren’t actually good or clever or skilled or valuable enough to do all the things you thought you wanted to do — maybe if you were a bit more impressive, you wouldn’t have found yourself in this place at all.

Waiting. Waiting is a stark absence of control. Waiting is watching a different pair of eyes consider the chess board and not knowing what they’re seeing. Waiting is surrendering. Waiting is refusing to barge ahead or forward or further down. Waiting is watching. Waiting is closing your mouth (sometimes) and opening your eyes (sometimes) but NOT MOVING. Waiting is feeling your feet get antsy or fall asleep from remaining stationary. Waiting is waking up from another dream of where you hope you’re going to stare at the same dreary walls that cocoon you where you are. Waiting is telling an official your business and watching them mull your words over, deciding your fate based on how they may feel that day. Waiting is being caught in standstill traffic around the corner from the incident, having no idea what’s causing the delay.

Waiting is groping for answers you don’t know but wish you did. Waiting is fumbling in the dark feeling for a switch. Waiting is staring over an artist’s shoulder at his empty canvas. Waiting is the darkness preceding the premier showing of a play.

Waiting is tedious. Waiting is crippling. Waiting feels lethargic and lazy, second-rate and unmotivated. “If you really wanted to succeed, you’d…”. Waiting might feel noble the first few days. Then the days begin to stretch like twilight shadows — the temporary becomes normalcy; pause becomes habit; stagnation becomes comfortable.

Then in the morning as you wake up from another dream of where you hope you’re going, the same white walls that stare blankly at you every morning begin to bother you. You wake up and your brow furrows. Those walls and their staring faces sting first like pinpricks, then one day like blows. Waiting waiting waiting will never end!

Waiting. Another day, another dollar. Waiting for the next step. Feet stuck in mud. Eyes meet the Master’s and He doesn’t say anything. Infuriating waiting.

“Wait on the Lord. Be strong and take heart and wait on the Lord.” (Psalm 27:14)
Waiting is hard work.

-L