Waiting

I am weary with my crying; my throat is parched. My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God. Psalms 69:3 (NRSV)

I feel like I am waiting. I’m not sure what I am waiting for. Maybe the end of the world? No, that’s to dramatic and I don’t think I am waiting for this, in fact I tend to think it can’t happen because we will not let it happen. Am I waiting for a divine bolt of lightning to strike my heart and soul and inspire me to grand, lofty spiritual accomplishments? I think not. It feels more like waiting in my car in the Cell Phone Waiting area at the airport. I know something is coming, and I know it is coming on the sooner side I just don’t know exactly when it will arrive. I also don’t have a clear idea of what will be arriving.

I know a component of this is that I am waiting for those in leadership to begin to offer direction and insight. I can only do so much to impact and influence the direction of things, others in positions of leadership and authority also need to do things and I am waiting for them to do that.

I know a part of this waiting is trying to figure out how to make the biggest difference I can in the immediate future as our nation falls into a deeply troubling time. I am not sure how to employ my limited energy and resources for the maximum affect so I am waiting and working on this.

There is also a waiting for God mixed in to all this. Throughout my life, I have found that at critical moments I get into this waiting and one of the things I am waiting for is some inspiration, direction, insight or nudge from God. I cannot remember a time when I have felt the way I feel that a metaphorical voice from heaven hasn’t been a part of moving me along.

I wish I could tell you that I have this elaborate ritual of serious spiritual discerning, time in contemplation and deep prayer that centers me and opens me to hearing the voice of God and finding what I have been waiting for. Well I don’t have these things, or at least not in any real traditional sense. I give myself permission to just sit and gaze out the window. I allow for some time for music and arts to speak to me. I go to the Japanese Garden and the Chinese Garden and just walk around. I reflect on what I have been reading, watching, and paying attention to. I let the invitations to conferences, training events, etc. come and maybe spark an interest in me. Basically, I just wait.

And I don’t like waiting. The hardest thing for me to do is wait for a particular time to arrive before I can do what I need to do. I really find it hard to just wait without a clear and definitive end point for the waiting. I don’t like waiting without knowing what I am waiting for. And yet I am deeply enmeshed in a vocation and institution that requires just this kind of waiting. My tradition is a tradition of waiting. Waiting for inspiration, insight, guidance, direction; waiting for the voice of God.

I know that these times of waiting are often followed by something significant. It could be in my personal life. It might be in my pastoral ministry with my present congregation. I could be a call to go to a new place. And I could be a shove to delve deeper into who I am and what God needs and wants from me. What it is just isn’t clear yet. So, I wait. It can come relatively quickly or it can take months, even a couple years to become clear. And this is part of why I don’t like this waiting. But the truth is I can do nothing else because I have learned that there is no way to push, manipulate, or force this waiting to end. It just must take whatever time it needs and I have to just wait for it.

And so I wait.

Dear God, help me to wait for you. Help me to be at peace as I wait. Help me to be open to the ways you communicate with me. Amen.