Embrace the Wait

Over 12 years ago, I wrote a poem called "Waiting."  No matter how much time passes, we still go through seasons of waiting. Or even simply days of waiting. Waiting is hard. I like to know things for certain, have them wrapped up neatly with a bow. 

I guess waiting can take different forms:
...the giddy with anticipation times of waiting... like finding out if the baby in your tummy is a boy or a girl. 
...or the fear-inducing times of waiting, like wanting the results of an MRI.
...and then the waiting on circumstances outside of our control, maybe outside any human control.  Waiting on God.

Sometimes the waiting makes us weary, as in when a longing in our chest hasn't been fulfilled. 

Sometimes the waiting motivates us. ...What can I be doing in the meantime?

And sometimes like today, I have felt like a balloon drifting aimlessly in the sky, dodging tree branches and telephone wires, trying to stay afloat.

I had the thought today, though, that though I feel like someone let go of this balloon, I know I am tethered. I know God has me.  Even if I feel a bit tossed about in the breeze, I should enjoy the ride because I am in His hands.  Maybe He gave me a longer string today, but He's still holding it. 

My poem from 1998 is:

"Waiting"

The arc
of the sway
of the hammock
should bring a lullaby.

The arc
of the sway
of the hammock
makes the limbo sigh.

That's all it says. But today, while the sway is making me a little seasick, I want to rest in the hammock. I want to feel caught in the trees and know that I'm caught. I want to embrace the wait and see what it has for me.