Waiting. It’s not what I usually choose. I like a plan and the action that follows.
Yet, we all share time in the waiting room.
Waiting for Christmas as a tender child seemed interminable.
Waiting my turn to give an oral report in high school was pure torture, wanting to get it over with while dreading it at the same time.
Waiting in the dentists office for the needle and the drill leaves me anxiously wringing my hands.
Waiting for the doctor to see me when I’ve already been there long is frustrating.
Waiting for the red light to change because I’m running late, I endure by counting the minutes.
We all wait for something. A phone call, a visit, a letter, a promotion, or a confirmation. We wait for a biopsy report, a positive on a pregnancy test, a return of strength after surgery, a healing of a broken heart. In the waiting, we wonder why it is taking so long.
After unexpected and unimaginable turn of events, a crucifixion that was mind boggling, Jesus’ disciples, friends and family huddled in fearful waiting, not knowing what they were waiting for.
All they knew for sure was that Jesus was dead. Some saw it happen. Some walked to the tomb where his linen-wrapped body was placed. Some heard the horrific details and could not comprehend how or why it happened.
They waited in their stupor of questions, uncertain of what lay ahead.
They were much like me when things don’t turn out the way I expected or planned or hoped they would. I am left wondering and waiting.
From my perspective I see the tomorrow that will come for Jesus’ followers, the empty tomb, the glory of His resurrection. If I could tell them anything, it would be this: It’s going to be alright. Just you wait and see.
And the message is the same for me. No matter my circumstances, as God’s beloved child, it’s going to be alright. I won’t necessarily understand at the moment. I may not fully know on this earth. But one day, things that hurt me will reveal their purpose. What I couldn’t understand will be made clear. I will see that the trials, the tears, and the pain had an objective and a goal, all in the mind of a sovereign and good Father, and all of it to conform me into the image of His dear Son.
The waiting room may not be the place I voluntarily go, but it is the place I will return to again and again. Perhaps I need to tell myself this right now.
It’s going to be alright. Just you wait and see.