My thoughts on waiting


It baffles me how alone people often feel in their less than happy places assuming they're the only ones that feel that way.

If age has taught me anything it's that we all have our list of things about our significant other that drive us crazy (and yes, we all have ugly fights with said button pushers), we all have days etched in our minds that we're for certain will leave our kids in therapy when they're adults, we all have seasons of grief and depression and loneliness, we all have our list of insecurities and we all wait. We are all always waiting.

We wait for a much needed, but unknown opportunity to present itself that will let us out of the mundane job that sucks our energy dry before 9 a.m., we wait for a healthy pregnancy, school to be over, relief from postpartum hormones that are beating us up, a diagnosis, the money to accrue so that we can finally move, the adoption agency to call with good news, winter to be over, for our kids to be a little older, for love to show up or a broken heart to heal.

Waiting. Always waiting.

I'm waiting right now and I decided this afternoon as I was obsessively folding sheets into perfect squares that waiting for anything can be super annoying. I found myself starting to feel quite sorry for myself.

I have baby fever. Bad. In a perfect world, we'd boink and longed-for baby would be in my arms 10 months from now, but unfortunately we're going on 8 years of unexplained infertility. So, we wait.

I have a burning desire to do something new. Something bigger than myself. I have no shortage of ideas, but knowing of what that exact thing is is not revealing itself at the moment. And, so I wait.

I loathe winter. I know it's a necessary season and I sure do have a love affair with the spring that's very much exaggerated because of winter. But I need sun (hello, SAD) and time outside. I'm an open-air person. Being indoors with nothing but walls and temperature controlled air drives me batty. Spring will come, I know this. So as the weeks drag on I wait.

Am I grateful for what I have? YES. But I also have unmet longings and so I've chosen to make peace with the fact that being grateful while longing are okay to do simultaneously.

This evening I read these words, from Romans 8 in The Message:

"The resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a child-like 'What's next, Papa?'"

I believe the best thing some of us can do is change the way we think about things and the language we use to describe and instead normalize it all. Because I'm like you and you're like me and whatever I'm experiencing I feel confident you can relate.

When we fight it's because we believe love is messy and fighting for each other is not the same as fighting against each other.

I believe that I'm a broken human being raising two innocent, but broken human beings and that God can bridge my shortcomings with his love and mercy.

I know by experience that seasons of grief and depression and loneliness are some of the most memorable and important days of our lives. They're the days that, when we allow them to, cause our roots to grow deeper and our compassion to multiply.

The fact that we all have insecurities proves to me that we're all in need of a Savior. Someone that can fill our dark holes in ways ourselves and other humans simply cannot.

And waiting doesn't equal lost and forgotten. It equals eager and passionate and expectant and that is a state I think we should be proud to find ourselves in. It shows we're not apathetic or indifferent.. no, it proves the exact opposite: we're alive.

So, today I'm grateful and expectant... expectant to be a mother of three, expectant for doors to open at just the right time and expectant for spring to arrive.

It feels good to be alive.