“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word, I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.” Psalm 130:5-6

“Why do waiting rooms have to seem so ominous?”

Last week, I thought of that quote sitting in a waiting room feeling anxious and restless expecting a medical diagnosis. Sitting, I noticed that I felt very alone in that room. I felt uncomfortable and chilly, squirming around on the crackly paper-covered bench barely dressed in a paper-thin robe. I felt exposed, waiting, and watching for the door to open for what seemed like an eternity. I also felt keenly aware that on the other side of that door was someone who knew things that I did not, which made me uneasily vulnerable. The more I noticed, the more I recognized how many times life feels like sitting in the waiting room. So much feels out of our control. Uncomfortable. And it’s so easy to feel alone. I wonder who is there today? I wonder who needs to know that God is in that waiting room with you. I wonder who feels a sinking pit in your stomach today, wondering if He is still near? Is he still good? Who needs to know that there is good news and freedom and life on the other side of that waiting room door? Maybe you feel like your prayers are bouncing off the walls like echoes from those cold concrete walls? If you’re nodding your head or saying, “Yes! Sister, that’s me.” Can I tell you that you are not alone? Sometimes ministry comes in the form of encouragement. Other times ministry takes the form of empathy. The Lord and I have been working out some things together for the past year, and in it, I’ve learned permission to ponder, sometimes wonder. There have been moments when I flirted with a teenage-like rebellion in my spirit – arms crossed, furrowed brow with an audible, “Hnmf.”

Mostly though, I’ve learned that God hears me. When I ask him to be present, He is there. When I tell him I desperately need a word, I get it. When I struggle to hold up my arms in faith, He sends supports. I’ve been asking hard questions, and if you are too, I think that’s OK, and I know that God can handle it. I have seen the heart and face of grace on the other side of my difficult questions. I have seen the faithful and good God. If life feels a bit like that waiting room for you today, Take heart, dear one, God is there with you. He’s on the other side of the door, He’s in the diagnosis, He’s in the waiting, He’s in the discomfort, He’s in the silence, and in the chaos (maybe not those darn paper covers, but alas, all else!). I encourage you to ask, “Jesus, where are you in this?” Then, make Him your waiting place, knowing that He will answer with hopeful expectancy. “Before they call, I will answer; while they are still speaking, I will hear.” It’s His promise.