In life there are a select few experiences that are common to all humans regardless of age, race, nationality, religion, etc., and one of those is The Waiting Room. This room may look different for each person, and in fact may not even be a physical place, but simply a state of flux one exists in as he or she waits for some kind of verdict.
The Waiting may be for news of a baby, a job, an acceptance letter, or what we commonly wait in an actual room for…a treatment or a diagnosis. Regardless, the minutes, days or weeks that tick by can feel agonizing as our hearts fill with fear or anticipation.
I have become all too acquainted with waiting rooms over the last few years. In fact, my oldest son gets allergy shots and we have made a weekly visit to the pediatrician’s office for the last 6 months. The whole experience from beginning to end usually takes an hour. Taking two energetic boys to the doctor’s office on a Friday afternoon every single week has the potential to be a problem. However, after reading the book Hands Free Mama, I have come to view that time as an opportunity to focus fully on my boys.
Now, I could easily let them entertain themselves by bringing their Nintendo devices and letting them have at it, but I now view this hour as a time to engage with them. We read books, do puzzles, play cards, or play games together on my iPad. There isn’t anything else to distract me like there is at home. This time has become a sweet time for me talking and playing with my guys.
I felt humbled by my waiting room experience with my mama this past Tuesday. Her four hours of waiting time were spent with me escorting one person after the next back to visit with her before her surgery. I sat surrounded by friends and family. I didn’t even have time to read the books I had brought with me.
The love, care and concern of others overshadowed my dread of my time in The Waiting Room. It wasn’t until the nurse came out to let us know the time had come to meet with the doctor that my belly did a little jump. Suddenly, the thought of sitting in that room and hearing he had found more cancer felt overwhelming. My uncle went back with me, and this time we had the blessing of good news. All had gone well and no more cancer presented itself.
The Waiting Room is a time of refinement. We can allow that time to build fear and frustration, or to build connection and peace. Which do you find that you choose? Do you create an island for yourself, or do you reach out to others for help and support? Do you fear you will bother them with your need? Do you strive to turn your concerns over to God?
It is in The Waiting Room that I begin to understand the power of prayer better. I struggle with prayer and how it works, knowing my prayers aren’t always answered the way I would like them to be. However, when one of the nurses came in and said she and her husband had prayed for my mom on the way into work, we felt comforted. As each person stood by her bed and said humble prayers, I felt a hedge of protection. I didn’t know with any kind of certainty that my mom would be okay, but I knew, regardless, we would be able to cope.
I don’t know what waiting room you are in right now, but I do hope you will make the best of it. Grow your faith, not your fear. Rely on others to help you through. Be even more grateful for the things you do have, not the things you don’t.
“But those who wait for the Lord [who expect, look for, and hope in Him] shall change and renew their strength and power; they shall lift their wings and mount up [close to God] as eagles [mount up to the sun]; they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint or become tired.” Isaiah 40:31 (AMP)