I pounded on the door.
Desperate to be let in.
My head full of questions, my heart like a restless sea of worry.
What is going to happen? What does the future hold for me?
Answer me, Lord.
Finishing a phase in life and transitioning into the next is not easy.
Stepping into new things in life feels like standing at the edge and wondering what would happen if I took the plunge.
The next steps are not mapped out clearly in front of me. All I can do is wait.
I don’t want to wait.
Waiting seems to be a natural part of life.
Waiting for the bus. Waiting for a friend who’s late. Waiting for summer. Waiting for the cake in the oven to be done.
Waiting for a better life to start. Waiting for the crisis to be over. Waiting for a spouse. Waiting for a child.
We often don’t want to wait, yet we have no way to change it.
We want to have the answer now. We want things now,
But what if it’s not really about the waiting to be over? What if the waiting is the essential thing?
Waiting time is never wasted time.
Waiting develops us in ways often unseen: endurance, patience with others and ourselves, an inner perspective.
Waiting prepares the canvas onto which our future is painted – brush stroke after brush stroke.
Waiting strengthens the foundation we can later build on.
Waiting sharpens our character for the trials to come.
Waiting redirects our perspective.
We become aware of our own dependence and neediness.
We open up ourselves to the help of others.
We find the Lord who is working in our waiting and who’ll open up doors we never ever pounded on.
What are you waiting for? And how are you waiting?
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It’s another Friday and over at
Kate Motaung’s place we gather for a fabulous five minutes of writing. One prompt. Just write. No edit. Share and be inspired!