I have been exploring the waiting room. I spend a lot of time here; more time than in
any other place. The waiting room I am
referencing here is an icon for the time I spend waiting on change in my
life. As an expert on change leadership,
I find it interesting that the models that address change for organizations do
not include waiting. It is so easy to
put all the focus on the traumas of change, and there are a lot, but in my
personal walk, I find the waiting to be the most difficult. Sometimes when I am waiting I truly cannot
stand where I am at. I desperately need
change that seems to be elusive.
Other
times I know change is about to occur. I
can feel it in my bones, and all indicators point that way, but the process
seems to pause. It takes a deep inhale
and then refuses to exhale for much longer than I care to wait. And finally, sometimes I am waiting in the
midst of change. The change process has
started and then stalled. I cannot
really say which type of waiting is most difficult for me. I have experienced all three types, and I
really just cannot pinpoint which is worse, but one thing I can say with
certainty, all types happen to me. They
were a part of my past, are in my present,
and will continue in my future, I am certain.
So what is the point of waiting? Well, if you wait something out, you
persevere, right? And that perseverance sustains
to an outcome at some point. Okay, fine,
but what about when you are finding it nearly impossible to wait? I could give lots of glib responses that we
have all heard. Waiting develops
patience. Waiting helps us grow. We have to trust Abba in the midst of waiting. We have to have faith and hope that it will
all work out. While all of these
responses are true, my visceral reaction is...BLAH! I know all the typical
responses, and yet they produce little in the way of answering two questions, “Why
do I always have to wait?”, and “What is the benefit of waiting?” These two
questions may be kissing cousins in terms of content, but they are uppermost in
my mind every time I end up in a waiting cycle.
I know very few people who love to wait. There are some who seem to manage it better
and are better equipped to maintain while waiting for the bus to start moving
again. Bully for them. I don’t happen to be one of those individuals,
and every time I begin waiting for another period of time, I am no better at it
than the last time. It is most likely a
character flaw I have, no doubt. In
large part, though, I have decided that the previous questions are
rhetorical. I have not procured any
answers as to why I have to wait other than that waiting is part of life. For those on a spiritual journey along with
the flesh and bone type, waiting is often part of learning a lesson that cannot
be obtained elsewhere and is vital to the next change. I have to relearn every time that I must give
over anxiety and fear of what I cannot see and relax with a trust that Abba’s
timing is perfect. And to be honest, if
I had no Abba to trust in, no faith or journey for my soul, I seriously doubt I
would sustain through waiting times. It
is simply not in my nature to be passive, so waiting on the exterior to meet up
with interior experience is just not something I can do without Abbas’
reassurance that he’s got “this”.
As to the benefit of waiting? I think the benefit of choosing to wait
rather than plow ahead, as I am want to do, exists in an outcome that is better timed,
embellished with more advanced skill sets that are obtained only in the waiting
period. But, while I can provide
rationale for my questions, I am no more comfortable with the process than
before.
I guess my point here is that waiting is a necessary part of
the human existence whether we do it well or not, whether we understand it or
not, and whether we learn life lessons along the way or not. In writing this little circular essay about something
I detest, I have somehow managed to reconcile my will with doing so once
again. And THAT was the point of the
exercise.
To those in the waiting room...Since we are here once again,
maybe we should leave some notes on the walls and chairs to remind us about the
process the next time. Maybe we need to
graffiti the place so that next time we will know we survived the last time,
and not only did the waiting leave a mark on us, but we left our mark as well. In doing so we will move from passive
orientation to active, and that suits me fine.
L
