This is a post I wrote in early December 2006. At the time I didn’t feel it was time to post it.
I post it now because it is a timely reminder to myself… I’ve been feeling anxious and irritable with myself and others these past few days. But I also post it because it occurs to me that I have some readers with whom this topic of waiting may resonate. :)
Here’s to learning to wait in hopeful expectation, and to being surprised by joy even in the darkest moments of our lives!
How do I approach waiting in my daily living?
My default mode is tense, impatient, and full of fears of unfulfilled wishes. But knowing that I shouldn’t be, I often force myself into trying to be hopeful, to be relaxed, to trust… That violent yet subconscious tug-of-war goes on in much of my waking hours. Little wonder that I frequently find myself feeling exhausted and broken without knowing why. In more lucid moments when I step back and look at myself, I can see the hilarity (even if a rather sad one) in my frenzied and counterproductive attempts to be ‘zen’.
It really takes consistent and very careful maintenance to be in touch with my innermost self and with the voice of love that dwells there. Only when I can penetrate the noise that fills my head can I again detect the soft prompting of hope in my heart, and the reminder of what hope is.
Trusting in fulfillment that will come – not according to my wishes but according to God’s promise. Believing that God’s promise goes beyond myopic wishes but transcends and exceeds all expectations. Learning that waiting is not passive, but an active appreciation of the present moment – believing that something great is happening in every moment that passes because a seed has already been planted. Realizing that patience is simply learning to live, trust, and hope in the present, knowing that there is fulfillment even here and now.
*musing* In some ways, I’m finding that the most difficult relationship to build and maintain is the inward one with myself. Reaching inwards with attentiveness, honesty and love is a lot harder than it sounds. And trying to be present to myself without being led on a merry chase by the thousand-and-one thoughts that invade me whenever I try to be silent is really hard work!
But it’s worth it. Because those few moments of being, no matter how brief, is an oasis of tranquility. It is when I touch base with the root of my being. It is when I reach the core and discover I am not alone. At the center of my being, I come into the presence of God who has chosen to make His home in the battered tent of my heart. In that moment, waiting and fulfillment becomes one, and a truth of utter simplicity washes over me: I am His Beloved.
And when that truth reverberates in the inner chamber of my heart, I remember who I am. And I am at peace.