Hurry Up and Wait

Question: How do you wait?

Think about that for a second. When you don’t have that answer you’ve been waiting for or you’re not sure of what to do next, what do you do?

Speaking as someone who feels like people talk too slowly, listens to podcasts and audiobooks on at least 1.5x speed, and often has to take matters into her own hands in order to get stuff done, I am rubbish at waiting. In fact, in contemplating this topic, I have come to the realization that I hate it. 

I want to have all the answers right away (if ever there was something from sci-fi that I wish were true, it’s the ability to learn things in seconds by having something plugged into the back of my head, Matrix-style). I get antsy when things aren’t settled or decided. I want to know what my next step is the instant it becomes clear that something needs to change. Once I do decide my next step, I’m ready to make it happen ASAP. And my poor husband has been the recipient of far too many “what is your point?!” glares. 

Part of that is just my personality, I’m sure. Perhaps some of it is the fact that I was raised in a home where efficiency was a virtue. And a large portion is likely due to the reality that capitalism requires progress above all and begins dying the moment it stops. In fact, stopping means we may have to face the inevitable consequences of unending progress at all costs, so never stop, never slow down, never smell the (dying) roses.

Combine all those factors together, and you end up with a person so conditioned against waiting, against unknowing or anything else that might impede productivity, that to cease feels like death or, at the very least, a loss of all significance. This conditioning even manifests in my faith: I must always know the answers, and if I don’t, then I quickly prove how I’m in the process of actively searching them out. Though I may not be certain yet, I will be very soon.

And yet. 

I find myself in a long, drawn-out period of unknowing and uncertainty. In more ways than one, my future is less known than ever and my faith is more about what I don’t know than what I do. I’ve spent more time than I care to admit pushing against this, clamoring for answers and decisions so that I can feel sure once again. But despite all my thrashing and demanding, I feel decidedly no further along than when I started.

My questions reveal much: Shouldn’t I know more by now? Shouldn’t I be more established by now? Shouldn’t I be through this already? As if there were a timeline or a limit to the amount of time one can spend in waiting and in uncertainty. As if waiting were a trial to endure.

Lately, mostly because I’ve had no other choice, I’ve been trying to change my perspective on waiting. Could this relentless uncertainty be teaching me something? Could this unending wait—rather than answers—be the point? Might I encounter the divine in new, unexpected, previously unknown ways if I just stop and wait patiently? How might my faith evolve and morph and grow if I simply stop and listen?

Over the next week, I hope you’ll join me in an effort to stop striving and embrace waiting. Try the following practice or tweak it however works for you.

A Practice

Contemplative prayer is in itself a form of waiting. Carving out time during the day to sit in silence waiting to receive the gift of the divine presence is a formative practice, teaching us to be awake to the present moment. Instead of more active, verbal prayers that focus our attention on ourselves and what we are saying or thinking or desiring, contemplation is an act of hopeful waiting and deep surrender.

There are several forms or iterative expressions of contemplative prayer, so feel free to use the practice that is most comfortable to you. But if this form of prayer is new to you or you need a refresher, first watch this helpful video. Then the simple guide below will help you practice waiting on the presence of God. 

• Find a quiet, comfortable place where you can sit for several minutes undisturbed.

• Quietly close your eyes and allow your heart to open. 

• Take several deep breaths, slowly inhaling and exhaling to center your heart, mind, and soul.

• As random thoughts or worries enter your field of vision, simply allow them to float away as if on a gentle stream, neither clinging to nor rejecting anything.

• Into the silence, gently offer this simple prayer over and again as you wait to receive the divine presence: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” 

• After several minutes, say a simple prayer of thanks for whatever gifts you have received.

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