"You can get so confused
that you'll start in a race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on a miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward most useless place.
The Waiting Place...
...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for the wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting"
- Oh, the Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss
I don't pray for patience. I don't pray for patience because there is only one way to learn patience. It involves waiting. And waiting involves giving up control.
This winter has been a particularly good lesson in waiting. In Chiberia we have had the repeated snow-cold-snow sandwich since November. Often we hope for a snow fall before or around Thanksgiving. This year there were three snowfalls before Thanksgiving, and there has been some form of precipitation every 72 hours. I, like so many, am waiting for the weather to break. For Spring. For above freezing temperatures. It, however, is out of my control, so I wait. Waiting.
Two other factors in my life have made this the Waiting Winter. I'm waiting to heal, and I am waiting for our son. I have not run since Jan 1st. Tomorrow is March 1st. This make me sad. Thankfully, the weather has not been cooperative, but it doesn't still take away my desire to run. The healing road has been long, and although it is fruitful, there is still a distance to go. Just waiting.
I am also waiting to meet our son. Waiting for a match. Our dossier is filed, and I am paper pregnant. Unlike my past pregnancies, I don't know what I'm having or when I'm having it. I don't know how old my son will be, and therefore I can't plan. I don't know when I will meet him or what he looks like. It's completely out of my hands. I wait and pray. So much waiting.
Waiting wears on me. I think it wears on everyone. I have friends who are also in the Waiting Place. They are going through tough times, and they are waiting for change or relief. It can't come fast enough, and it feels like it isn't coming at all.
So what perspective can I offer as I see the forecast for snow again this weekend? Hope. There has to be hope or waiting will wear me away. Hope offers minor relief and gives me strength to endure. The two days of above freezing weather when the sun shone remind me that Spring will come. It may take its own sweet time, but it will come.
My physical therapist asks me every week how I am doing and how my pain is. Although I can't run yet, I notice change. Last night I extended my foot in bed, and it didn't hurt. That's progress. The exercises I do at PT are often painful and take a lot of concentration. It's exhausting. And the exercises seem so trivial, but they are paying off. I got my inserts this week, and my physical therapist said I could run in two weeks. An end in sight. Hope. Strength to endure.
As far as our adoption. I am thankful for the woman at the agency who is working on our behalf. It is in her capable hands, and I have hope in that. I also have a full life plate right now. Distraction can be another form of hope. It reminds me that one thing does not have to be a consuming focal point. If I wait for the pot to boil, so to speak, I will miss out on all the other things around me. I don't have control over it anyway so I try not to worry about it. Distractions. Breaking up the waiting.
I'm also not alone in the Waiting Place. It is so easy to feel alone here. I'm not alone, and all it takes is a little vulnerability to find someone else was sitting next to me all along. Community. Yes, there is a temptation for group complaining. Misery does love company, but there is also a great opportunity to build one another up and encourage each other forward. Eyes ahead. Chin up. Arms locked. Waiting together. There is hope and strength.
"Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing"
|To all the waiters, I wish us Boom Bands.|