There are times in life when anticipating something makes time travel at a snail’s pace, causing the excitement–or dread–to grow incrementally.
When the experience happens, it’s over so fast it’s hard to imagine it ever happened at all.
I waited years to go skydiving. Once I was given the gift from friends, it was another three months till I got to go.
Waiting was interminable.
Then it was over.
So much excitement built into the before, did it make the after seem anticlimactic?
Not even a little.
Certain happenings in life usually are worth anticipation.
A wedding. The birth of a child. Military personnel returning home after deployment. A patient recovering from a long bout of illness.
For each of these, the wait was worth it.
My whole experience in the air might have lasted seven minutes. Fourteen if you count the time it took the plane to reach 15,000 feet.
Not even a quarter of an hour. You waste that time in commercials in an hour-long television show.
I’m not a person who’s comfortable with waiting. Like most of my species, I want what I want when I want it. Being made to wait can be frustrating or make me anxious. It can get under my skin enough and make me angry.
I grouse a lot when I’m made to wait. Not content to simmer in solitude, I share freely more feelings than anyone wants to hear on a subject few are truly interested in. It makes me feel better.
Some things aren’t worth the cost of the wait. When I’m disappointed by results of something I’d been anticipating, I feel a bit foolish for making such a big deal about it. I make a joke and hide behind humor instead of letting others feel sorry for me. Act like it’s no big deal.
When it’s worth the wait–like jumping from an airplane–the time of anticipation fades to nothing. Though it was brief, I’ll remember this for a long time to come.
Always with a grin.
God often makes me wait. I don’t often do that with a grin. Or even a positive attitude. I see others around me receiving blessings I feel I should receive. Getting answers to prayers that for me are left unanswered. For now. I ask. I anticipate His response. I have faith He’ll answer because I’m so sure it’s what He wants.
Only to wait.
Waiting reminds me I’m not in control. During the skydive, I was along for the ride. Jeff, my instructor, was in control. I could do nothing but sit back and wait and watch what he would do to get us where we needed to be.
God is in control. He sees the big picture and knows what I need to go through to grow me to be who He knows I can be.
I don’t really want to wait for that either.
He encourages me to sit back and enjoy the ride. With Him.
What He has in store for me–and all who believe in Him–is worth it.
What are you waiting for?