Waiting

            I got the call at work today.

            “I’m having contractions. I want you to come home.”

            I tied up all the loose ends and shot out the door. But then, after arriving home Michelle said it had calmed down. Who knows if this is the beginning of the labor, or just a false call? And now we’re cooped up at home waiting.

            I think waiting is a deeply spiritual exercise. All through Scripture there are references to waiting, most of which seem to refer to the idea that we have to “wait for God” somehow. The spiritual silence we can hear in prayer, and the urgency we feel in our own circumstances, merge together to create a challenging atmosphere where we just want to get on with things. I think that’s why waiting comes up in Scripture a lot – because our general nature is to want to rush on with living, with or without any divine help.

            The word “patience” always conjures up aspects of waiting for me. Maybe that’s why I’m so bad at it. I dislike waiting very much. Yesterday I showed up at the bank to deposit a check, and somebody was standing at the instant teller with five deposit envelopes in his hand so I walked inside to go to one of the empty cashiers, rather than waiting. But of course, I happened to choose the person who was in training, and she took a painfully long time to simply deposit my check.

            “Is this a paycheck?” she finally asked me after long minutes of typing and peering at the check in her hand.

            “What’s the problem here?” I demanded. “Just deposit it!”

            She could see I was getting impatient, and said, “I’m in training. This one is over my limit.”

            “I’ll go to the instant teller,” I said, reaching out for the check.

            She pulled it back and said, “No, I can do it. Just wait.”

            Which, of course, I did. But I definitely found it painful, especially knowing that Michelle and Celia were waiting for me in the car, and that four or five people had probably come and gone from the instant teller machine in all this time.

            Back to my current situation, I now sit here waiting for my second-born, after nine months, and in these last hours I feel my eagerness and excitement build to a great crescendo.

            I think waiting builds in us a desire for something far greater than if we get it right away. If we don’t have to wait, we feel gratified instantly and appreciate whatever it is less. The longer we have to wait, the more expectant we become, and the more grateful when we finally have our desire or need met.

            That’s probably one of the greatest perks to having a nine-month incubation period of pregnancy. That, and it gives a guy a chance to mentally prepare for the massive life-changes he’s about to be facing.

            As for right now, I’ll have to distract myself and do something, or I’ll go nuts sitting here waiting.