Waiting Room Faith
Posted by Verna on August 10, 2011
Life has been a recycled journey of trauma and crisis, turmoil and trust, for as far back as I can remember. The times I have spent in the dark seasons of waiting have been a classroom in learning how to believe what our eyes can’t see. We’ve all been there. At one time or another, we’re all in a waiting room. Sitting among impatient people while waiting for an appointment with the doctor. At the hospital waiting for a medical test or procedure, then waiting for the report to define our mood for the rest of the day, or maybe the rest of our life. Our lives are a mix of rush and wait. We rush to a waiting area at the salon or spa to quickly insert a slot in our day for artificial rest. No matter which scenario we seem to be waiting in or rushing off to, it invariably involves dependence on clocks.
The clock in our home seems to spin out of control, robbing me of the twenty-four hours promised. Yet, the clock in the hospital waiting room can appear to be broken as it stands still in time. Because of the many medical situations our family has experienced over the years, I can often describe many of the clocks I’ve sat beneath while waiting for a word of hope. Not from a volunteer or a doctor, but from the Voice of our only hope. In the boredom of the waiting room, we can soon become people-watchers rather than clock-watchers after sitting too long. I’ve observed those who nervously chat, those who hold their breath, those who boldly let it out after hearing a good report, and some staring blindly at a meaningless magazine. All while believing in the man dressed in scrubs to make the difference. I have been all of the above at one time or another while sitting on the other side of the clock. It is during the waiting experience we can learn the futility to focus on the clock rather than choose to focus on the power of the Creator of time in His waiting room. The grooming of our faith. At the time that I wrote this journal entry, my husband was in the Intensive Care Unit battling bladder cancer, and my son was on dialysis. Despite the invasion of chemotherapy, the cancer chose to remain. Despite three transplants, my son was listed on yet another national list to wait for a kidney. How could we continue to hope? We attempted to wait in faith and expectant hope, not in denial. Fine line. These are the times when we try and run, but find we can get no farther than our circumstances. UNLESS, we learn to run to the strong name of God, we will be tempted to focus only on clocks and circumstances. Countless times I’ve felt as though I had wrestled a bear and had the strength beaten out of me. Then, I am rescued as I run into the cave of His name . . .the strong name of Jehovah. The name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous runs into it and is safe. Proverbs 18:10