Waiting is something that few, if any, people do well.
“I’m just impatient,” some say, as if that were unusual and distinctive. It’s along the lines of announcing, “I like to travel and do fun things,” or, “I sure do enjoy being with people I care about.”
In other words, not liking to wait is normal, and most people chafe at it.
Now I’m not talking so much about waiting in line at the grocery store or library desk, which generally takes a few minutes of our day. The people who agitate over this are truly impatient, or so ridiculously short on time that life, to them, must be a series of frustrations. These poor people are in danger of being swallowed by our corporate business culture mentality, the one that extols efficiency at all costs, and drives its subjects to constant, relentless, high speed.
The waiting to which I refer is that slow, constant, daily expectation of change — we seek a new job, or long for a relationship, or simply want something in lives to be different, or better, and are working toward it on our end on a daily basis.
We’re waiting on or for a dream, actually, a deeper fulfillment of something in our lives, and these things don’t Just Happen. Those who know or relate to God refer to it as waiting for an answer to prayer.
The artwork, Waiting, shows two horses in their paddock, waiting for the time that their human companion will arrive and take them out. They are together, yet separated by a fence — which is how we often find ourselves as humans. We may share a dream with another, but we are still separate people, and while we wait together, we also do so on our own.
That being said, it’s more pleasurable sharing the experience of waiting with another, a friend, companion, or family member with whom we can talk about what we’re waiting for, encourage one another, and speak without fear of being chided for our hopes. Oddly, it is through this process that we grow into better, kinder people — patient people who understand, or try to understand, the hurts and needs, the hopes and desires of others.
And while, “becoming a better person” seems like something our mother would say, a poor substitute for what we really want, think about the people who seem to get what they want, when they want it, and however much of it they can grasp.
They would be far better people if they had to wait a bit.
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