The Waiting Place
Circa 2012~
I've always loved the book by Dr. Suess called "Oh the Places You'll Go". His witty humor about the places you will go rings true! In particular lately... the Waiting Place.
Over the past years, life has brought many trials, many broken hearts, and much desperation. And honestly, not a lot of answers or solutions. No quick fixes in sight!
Many of you could guess, and I will go ahead and confess that my natural inclination is not to wait at all. But to do something! Anything!!! Something for others, something for Clif, something to keep busy and forget. Something that will make all this deep pain and complicated chaos seem a little farther from home. I am a leader, I should lead! I am a counselor, shouldn't I be counseling... And what Providence continues to pound home is to wait. Only wait.
And I don't like waiting. Wait for what? More destruction. More hurt. More sweet, precious hearts that I fiercely love to be further crushed. Wait for what? The verdict? The crazy to stop. Wait for what?
On days when I don't like waiting, life is disshelved. Home feels behind all the time. Demands of children, dog, grass, groceries, calendar, never satisfied. I am anxious, staring off into emptiness, cannot think what to do next. Frustrated because this is not ME. This isn't how I live. I am broken. Desperate.
And so, the waiting isn't going well... or is it?
I get some ideas of what might bring some relief. About what I might need. Maybe church people who want to hear the honest heart will help. ... And it doesn't. It hurts. It really hurts. And we are not stepping in to community and they aren't either. Friends are fleeting it feels. Or just busy.
And I cling to Psalm 121. Somedays its the only prayer I utter. "You promised. You promised you would keep me. I have to believe you."
Another Christian sister shares her struggles through a book. And her story rings true to me. Only He will help. His God Presence. His Powerful Love. His Gentle Shepherding. This waiting... this long, wretched season of the soul barely surviving... Squeaking out a heartfelt prayer to please let me live and not wither and die.
Church people are good, but they are not Him. Order and routine help, but they are not Him. Clifton, my sweet love, who walks together with me every day, he helps, but it is not enough. My soul is resonating with this message. And my desperation changes for grasping and panic to clinging to a knowing that I must believe Him. I must trust Him. I must follow Him. Or I will surely die. I will never be ok. Just like I fear. Without Him.
And through precious, like rare jewels, counselors and friends and by the Spirit, I begin to see the value and wisdom of the Waiting Place. And I stop resisting. And I sink in. And it's hard, but it feels like the right thing.
And the day to days find a sweet, steady, rhythm. My mother's heart regains some composure. The Redeemer is cleaning my heart, adjusting my perspective, leading me, encouraging me. The trial isn't over. The hard is still hard... The pain still present... The life-depleting anxiety is fading. As I lean into the arms of the Father fear is fleeting. And lament is here. And I can see Him.
I pray, "God give me patience. Help me speak kindly to my children. Let me live today." And my goals are to feed them, keep them clean, and be a life giving presence towards them and others. And that is all...
Until one day... actually over the past several days, I grow weary, again, of waiting. I want to bust outta this Waiting Place. I want some answers. I want to declare this whole trial, dismissed. All wounds are healed, we are moving on. I need something to do. I need my friends back. I'm irritated. My sweet fragrant little flowers turn into trolls over night! I feel like throwing a big ass fit! A gob of emotion is stuck in my throat. It's everything. Angry. Sad. Tired.
And Clif and I clearly hear, KEEP WAITING.
Surely only by God's grace, I remember to yield to what is true about me. I am broken hearted. Desperately incapable of mothering, leading, living in a way that brings honor to God or any goodness to anyone. But, He is at work. He is working His plan of redemption in my life. In this family. He always has been. So, I scratch off my lofty checklist and trash my strategic plan of escape from this awful and beautiful Waiting Place.
And what is it teaching me? Its teaching me Acceptance with Joy. To trust my Father. To sit with the Savior and be Comforted. It's proving to me that Perfect Love does cast out Fear. And it seems to be pointing me to that real, fully alive, life I desire with every fiber of my being.