Good Things #25: The Season of Waiting

Because this is the truth: if we were perfectly put together; if the world wasn’t full of disappointments and betrayals; if we didn’t spend weeks and weeks waiting for someone to stop hurting us…if we weren’t having our hearts broken right and left by this broken world – we wouldn’t need a savior. –Lindsay

I got this in my inbox this Sunday and it was oddly positioned to hit me at the worst (best?) moment possible.

Waiting is often harder than I expect. I can be quite good at it…when I am absolutely sure what I am waiting for. I can wait for 70% dark chocolate when I know I have some at my house instead of pounding back the milk variety at work. I can wait to get gas at Prime because I know it’ll be a good ten cents cheaper.

I’m even pretty good at waiting for Christmas, because I know that on that day my whole family will be here and the food will be amazing and hopefully this year it’ll be white.

But I haven’t been so good at waiting for other things.

Advent, the season of waiting. I pretend to listen for truth, but mostly I like my ears tickled.

What’s that? I don’t have to be kind? Yes! I knew it.

I can take that thing from that person because they don’t need whatever it is as much as I do.

And my favorite: I’ve got it all figured out.

This season of Advent, I’ve been re-realizing that I do not have it all figured out. To be honest, those moments of AHA! are rare, but I could feel myself settling into them nonetheless. My second year teaching, my junior year of adulthood, and surrounded by people I love.

But this Advent things have been topsy-turvy and un-beautiful and not quite as I want them.

What promises are true?

What am I waiting for again? LIke I wrote in this essay on sex and waiting, I’m not always sure. And it’s not only sex, it’s every good and perfect gift. Maybe I’ll own a cozy home with farm-like qualities one day. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll want to pull my hair out over my children’s myriad annoyances, or maybe I’ll never have children, and I’ll pour myself into my church and my community.

It’s not as easy as it has been, this waiting, especially because I’m not sure what’s coming.

But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. – Isaiah 40:31

The truth is, I’m pretty weary, and try as I might to squash this inner anger, I can’t seem to.

So what is this Good Thing #25, anyway? Cause it all seems a little bit less than good to me.

The Good Thing is this:

My mother saying, “It hurts, time passes, and good things happen.”

This is what I cling to. Time passes, good things happen. Even though I still try to shape what those things look like, I’m given renewed faith.

We do not know how to praise God because we do not know all that He has saved us from.

I look back at past relationships, and only now can I say Thank you. Only now do I see our butting heads, our squirming with uncertainty and un-compatibleness, the un-meeting of our strengths.

I don’t know all He has saved me from, but I rejoice. And I wait.

9 Replies to “Good Things #25: The Season of Waiting”

  1. Beautiful writing friend. I feel there is a whole book to be written from this line:
    “We do not know how to praise God because we do not know all that He has saved us from.”

    Peace to you sister, in your waiting.

    1. Thank you, Julianne. I keep reminding myself of that fact and I’m hoping that it sustains me. We all have things we’re waiting for… 😉

  2. Love reading your writing, Catherine. Waiting is part of the human condition, no question. The best we can hope for is to wait with grace . . . and in the moments we don’t feel so graceful, to have some 70% dark chocolate on hand.

  3. Hi there! I’m happy to have found your blog–I saw the link on the Ruminate FB page.

    I loved your line, “We do not know how to praise God because we do not know all that He has saved us from.”

    This is so true and such a wonderful reminder to trust in Him, regardless of our own limited perspective. Thanks for sharing your thoughts!


    1. Hi Libby! Thanks for reading!

      It’s a constant struggle – letting go of our idea of trust and faith and realizing that there is hope.

      Thanks again for stopping by!

  4. Catherine,
    I stumbled across your blog after rereading a lovely comment you left on a blog post I had written last summer. Thank you for this post. You’ve articulated this subtle tension so well, I could completely relate. You are a very talented writer!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.