The Waiting Room: Waiting During Advent and a Pandemic

Haven't we waited long enough? 

We know when Advent ends. On Christmas Eve, but what about the pandemic? That's not ending any time soon.

Waiting is not easy, and we are in for a long wait, so get comfortable in the Waiting Room.

Perhaps it may be helpful to remember other times when you have waited:

For a child to be born or adopted. Or to become pregnant.
For test results--medical or academic.
For a house to sell or to get a new job.
For the appearance of the love of your life. 
For vacation. For graduation. For the end of the work week.
For spring to come after a long winter or for the night hours to ease into daylight.
For a hoped for email or check to arrive.
For inspiration.

For justice. For peace.
For change, almost any kind of change.

I invite you to make your own Waiting Room list. 

When I yearned for a time of waiting to end, my father often said, "Your day will come." I was often irritated by that response and thought, "When? How? Why is it taking so long and what will happen in the meantime? Will it come in time? "

What "Your day will come" implies is that my time is not God's time and God's time is not my time, and I might as well learn how to wait. In fact, what if waiting could be a spiritual practice?

Seven Spiritual Gifts of Waiting by Holly Whitcomb urges us to change our perspective from waiting as something to be endured to waiting as a gift. Instead of challenges to be met, Whitcomb offers the following as gifts for our spiritual lives:

                                Patience
                                Loss of Control
                                Living in the Present
                                Compassion
                                Gratitude
                                Humility
                                Trust in God

Such a great list, I think to myself. Yes, I want to be more patient and compassionate. I want to live with gratitude and humility. And I know how much easier and more life-giving it would be, if I could give up control, live more in the present, and yes, trust in God. 

Is that even possible? Of course, for as as the angel said to Mary,

            For nothing will be impossible with God.
                                                  Luke 1: 37

As is so often the case, a change in perspective and habit and in our whole being, begins in the body. Notice where in your body you feel frustration or fear or boredom when you reside in the Waiting Room. Now would be a good time to breathe, the most basic of spiritual practices. 

I invite you to close your eyes, lightly, not tightly, and take a couple deep cleansing breaths and then breathe gently, in and out, finding your own rhythm. Continue until you feel your body relax and your heart and mind open.

This practice will not reduce your time in the Waiting Room, but you will grow and deepen your ability to be more patient, and I have noticed that when I am more patient, I am more able to give up tight control and to be more compassionate. When I breathe fully and wholly, I am more able to be here now and to be aware of all the reasons I have to be grateful. When I approach my waiting times in the spirit of humility, my trust in God grows. 

Isn't it interesting how these spiritual gifts intersect and interact with each other. If I set out to increase my ability to be patient, somehow that acquaints me with the other gifts, too. 

My Waiting Room prayer for you is that this may be a time of rich growth for you; that in your waiting you become even more of the person God created you to be. 

An Invitation
How have you been challenged by one of the spiritual gifts of waiting  and what might you do to integrate that gift into your life? I would love to know. 

 

Tuesday Reflections: Waiting for Christmas

Our grandson Peter has been at our house frequently lately, and each time he has arrived he has checked out the presents underneath the Christmas tree. He is six, and these days of waiting are interminably long for him. The other day he spotted a large package labelled for him, and I could feel the curiosity, the hope, the "please, let this be what I asked for" rise up in him. He didn't pick it up or shake it, but merely looked at it and then distracted himself by asking if he could watch "Star Wars." Frankly, I was impressed, and once again realized how the young people in our lives have much to teach us. 

Peter seemed to understand that "now" was not time time to open that present and no amount of cajoling would change that situation. He seemed to know that soon it would be time, and he would relish it all the more for the waiting. He was able to let it go and move onto something else that could give him pleasure and contentment in the moment. He seemed to know he could handle the wait. 

Think about all the times you have needed to wait for something--something that can only happen with time and can't be pushed or shoved or faked into being. Have you waited for

* Results of medical tests to arrive?

* A delayed flight to appear at the gate?

* A package to arrive?

* Water to boil?

* A long sleepless night to pass?

* The pain of grief and loss to diminish?

* The birth of a baby to be announced?

* A loved one to return?

* A job to be offered?

* A home to be sold?

* A cold or the flu to end?

When have you waited for change, a new direction or calling, an ease of your situation, a problem to be solved? An announcement to be made? When have you waited for a wish to be fulfilled and to be able to share the good news? 

Not one of us proceeds through this life without waiting, and I don't just mean waiting in a long line at Target. Each of us has known the kind of waiting which causes your heart to stop or your eyes to sting; the kind of waiting in which everything seems to be either in slow motion or swirling around you. 

Advent is that kind of waiting or at least offers us a chance to become more intimate with waiting and how waiting can help us grow and deepen awareness of how God moves in our lives. 

Over the two years of waiting for our house in Madison to sell I referred frequently to an excellent book about waiting, Seven Spiritual Gifts of Waiting by Holly W. Whitcomb. http://store.augsburgfortress.org/store/product/7240/Seven-Spiritual-Gifts-of-Waiting The gifts she examines are patience, loss of control, living in the present, compassion, gratitude, humility, and trust in God. Take your pick--they all apply when you are in a state of waiting. Notice that Whitcomb does not include giving up or being passive or throwing temper tantrums or not caring or blaming others for your misery. 

Instead, she writes about being available to others and developing resilience, relinquishing worry, and gathering strength from others.

  

          Waiting is an important guest to honor in the guest

           house of our humanity. If we consciously allow 

           waiting to be our teacher, we can accommodate

           waiting more peacefully. If we welcome waiting as

           a spiritual discipline, waiting will present its

           spiritual gifts. Waiting contains some of our richest

           spiritual opportunities if we are conscious enough and

           courageous enough to name them and live into them.

                                                         p. 13

Lately, our family has experienced waiting. Our granddaughter Maren was in the hospital for a few days. Starting with a very sore throat and then having severe breathing problems, she was admitted into Children's Hospital with bacterial tracheitis and was hit hard with what her Papa calls "Big Gun" antibiotics. She received excellent care, and she is recovering, but the whole experience required lots of waiting not only by all of us who love her, but also Maren herself has needed to wait. 

As she accepted calmly and even with interest what the plan was, she taught us how to wait with grace. At the same time she was able to ask for what she needed and be a participant in her own  treatment. She showed generosity of spirit when she expressed concern  for a child in the ER who was having a seizure, even though she herself was in pain.  She missed her school party and ski outings and other fun holiday events, but has done so without feeling sorry for herself. 

         In order to convert the inescapable lessons of waiting 

         into deliberate spiritual gifts, we, too, have to be 

         present; we need to pay attention. We need to actively

         participate in this dramatic conversion from waiting as

         something to be endured to waiting as a gift.

                                               p. 13

Waiting is more than a fact of life; it is an opportunity to practice being awake. When the waiting is finally over, how good it will be to know we have not missed living and being in our own lives. 

An Invitation

Are you in a time of waiting right now? If so, what can you do to be more present to both the waiting and to yourself as you wait? I would love to know.

PS: I won't be posting on Thursday, Christmas Day, but will return on Tuesday, December 30. Have a blessed holiday, however you celebrate or honor the sacred. 

Tuesday's Reflection: Waiting for the Paint to Dry

Recently, we had our front porch sanded and freshly painted. One of our favorite places in the house was looking shabby, and our realtor reminded us of the importance when your house is for sale of "first impressions." I had been irritated by that reminder, for I have been devoted to keeping our home "showing ready" for almost a year and a half, never having anything out of place and attempting always to present a "this could be your home" welcome.

 The early summer had been rainy, however, making this project impossible, and I couldn't get painters to return my calls anyway. Finally, when we took the house off the market, the time was right to re-establish the front porch as the welcoming place we have always felt it to be. 

The process took several days, but my husband and I were thrilled with the results. All we could do, however, was admire it from afar while the paint dried completely.  

No Entering, No Leaving

I stood inside the house looking out the front door. I could see the porch and the steps and the sidewalk beyond. I could see the view of woods across the road, but I couldn't go out the door. 

To leave the house I had to go another way. The back door. 

You've heard and probably often yourself the trite, but true statement, "When one door closes, another door opens. It is also true what Nora Gallagher says in her book, Moonlight Sonata at the Mayo Clinic, "But it's hell in the hallway." 

And that's what waiting for the paint to dry felt like. Hell in the hallway. 

The Invitation of Waiting

I know deep in my heart that what happens as we wait for change, for transformation, for a new beginning is often something that can't happen any other way. I thank Nancy Bieber in her book, Decision Making and Spiritual Discernment, The Sacred Art of Finding Your Way for reminding me of that. I know that life continues to happen even while waiting. I know that waiting is its own kind of sacred time. I understand I don't know all that may be happening while I wait. 

I know I need to continue to live fully while waiting, and I even know "If you can't be still and wait, you can't become what God created you to be." Sue Monk Kidd

But I want to go through the door. Now. I want to go down the steps. Now. I see the other side, and I want to be there. Now. I don't want to wait anymore. 

The Activity of Waiting

Waiting for the house to sell has been and continues to be challenging. I don't know what this time of waiting is all about. I pray for patience. I immerse myself with other projects important to me. I re-acquaint myself with trust in the Divine. 

One of my guides during times of waiting has been the book Seven Spiritual Gifts of Waiting by Holly W. Whitcomb. She writes,

      

         When we face an extended period of waiting, we have

       an opportunity to engage in a radical kind of patience that 

       can take us beyond surviving to thriving. We can partner 

       with the waiting rather than treat it as the enemy. We can

       involve ourselves in an active waiting that opens doors, 

       creates opportunities and stretches our minds, bodies, and

       souls. While waiting may necessitate a certain powerless-

       ness, this does not mean giving up intelligence, action and

       hope. Active waiting teaches us to trust that each small
       step is part of a larger process--a process in which we can

       participate with steady determination and lively
       expectation. 

       (p. 24)

Therefore, we are making some suggested changes in the house as a way to make it less personal, less specific and less suggestive of our taste and personality. Over the past year we have edited and edited the house, but now we are stepping aside even more, making room for a new owner. We trust that the paint will dry eventually, and while it does, we know we don't need to remain trapped looking out. We are using the back door. 

We know the waiting will be worth it.

An Invitation

Are you currently in waiting mode? How does waiting challenge you? In what ways is waiting a spiritual practice for you? How has waiting been a gift for you? I welcome your comments. 

House for Sale: Life on Hold?, posted by Nancy L. Agneberg

Show Time
Yesterday we had a showing, our 4th since the house went on the market the end of last week. Notice I said "the" house and not "our" house--a shift and a readiness. Anyway, I noticed how uptight I get before a showing. I don't sleep well, rehearsing what I need to do to prepare the house for potential buyers, as if it weren't picture perfect already.  (Click here to see the video of the house.) As I move through my showing checklist, washing the towels used that morning, emptying wastebaskets, wiping down sinks, packing up my laptop, sweeping the porch floor, vacuuming and dusting--in other words a high speed re-cleaning of the entire house, I panic about whether I will have enough time or will I still be turning on the lights, every light in every room, as the realtor and potential buyer arrive? I am a force to be reckoned with as I go through this process. Pity my husband as he sits drinking his morning coffee and reading the paper. I become a cartoon character with the words "GO TO WORK -- NOW!" in the balloon above my head. 
     Once the house is ready to do its own magic and I lock the door and leave, I am calm once again. I am clear. I have done what I can. I know the house looks wonderful, and what happens, happens. I relinquish control, and I am delighted someone is interested enough to imagine themselves living in this home. 
What Now?
      But then another issue takes precedence, an issue with immediate repercussions during showing times when I am an outcast from the house, but more importantly, an issue that pervades the in-between time of preparing to list the house and actually selling the house. What now? How do I use this time? What is this in-between time for? How can I best use this unknown amount of time? How do I continue to live fully and wholly as I wait to move forward into the next step? And even, how do I live in this house as I mentally detach from this house, but don't know how long this home will remain our home? 
     For the time being the hard work is done. True, there are other tasks I can continue doing in preparation for an actual move. There are many bins and drawers to sort through and many treasures, thanks to years of collecting antiques, to dispose of in order to move into a smaller space.  I will continue that process, but that is not exactly what I mean. 
     During another time of waiting to sell a house, I read, "Don't let the time do you. You do the time." (Holly W. Whitcomb in Seven Spiritual Gifts of Waiting) This is not a time to wait for my life to begin. I am 64 years old. My life began a long time ago! No, this is a time to continue living, even if it means living lightly in this house. My spiritual director reminded me recently, "Let life happen--all of it." Not only does that mean responding to what swirls around me, but also intentionally opening to the possibilities and opportunities of this time. What's the best way I can live during this time? 
Making a List and Checking it Twice
     And so I did what always works for me: I made a list. I have a special designated notebook, started when we were preparing to list the house, for this purpose. A notebook with a sketch of a wheelbarrow and the word "Unload" on the cover. How appropriate is that? I created a page for each room in the house with its own To Do list. Very helpful.  Recently, I added two pages. "Where to Go During Showings" and "How To Use This Time." One might not think it would be hard to decide where to go while someone is in the house and true, so far, I have used those times for errands, but in the flurry of disembarking, I don't always have a clear picture of where to land. My list helps me sort through the possibilities. 
     "How To Use This Time" is a broader, deeper list. An expanding list, which includes: 
             * Write more blog posts and read other blogs.
             * Contact friends here I haven't seen for awhile.
             * Start a new writing project.
             * Renew study of the enneagram.
             * Rework my manuscript on grief and loss.
             * Continue with massive project of putting pictures in archival albums.
             * Resume regular exercise routine and walk more. 
Active Waiting and No Regrets
     In other words this needs to be a time of "active waiting," to quote Whitcomb again. This is not a time to insure regrets. When the house is ultimately sold and packing and re-settling become the overriding activities, I do not want to regret wasting this time. I don't want to look back and see that I have not used this time well. 
     I don't mean to imply that I need to be 'busy" all the time. A degree of rest and rejuvenation is needed. I am thrilled to have more spaciousness to sit on the front porch or deck and read. No, I am not advocating doing for the sake of doing, doing to fill the time. Instead, I want to be intentional about the open space of this time. I want to live this time wholly and fully, calmly and clearly. Even on the days when there is a showing.