Waiting /’waidNG/ - noun
to stay in a place until an expected event happens, until someone arrives, until it is your turn to do something, etc.
to not do something until something else happens
to remain in a state in which you expect or hope that something will happen soon.
When I think of waiting, I always hear Sirius Black screaming, “I’VE DONE MY WAITING…12 YEARS OF IT… IN AZKABAN!” And that’s basically how I feel every time I have to wait.
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I’m not a very patient person. I’ll act like it on the outside because no one likes the impatient kid with their judgy eyes and tapping foot, but in my brain, I’m secretly trying to control every minute of my day. The act of ‘waiting’ rips control out my hands and places it elsewhere because suddenly we’re not on my schedule. It’s uncomfortable not having that kind of control— especially when it’s MY LIFE. I become antsy trying to regain control wherever and however I can until I ultimately end up screwing things up because I try to steal reins that aren’t rightfully mine.
Whenever I am completely stressed out about waiting, stuck hoping for something that I’m not even sure will come, there is a story that always comes to mind. There are a father and daughter at a train station. They are waiting at the train station, and the girl is impatient about waiting for the train to come, wondering why they can’t get on the other trains pulling up, the ones that seem to be moving so much faster or the ones going to more exciting places. The father looks down at his daughter, her eyes wandering and longingly looking at the others, and he says, “When we are at the station, when do I give you your ticket?” She looks at him and goes, “Just before we get on the train.” He continues, “Yes, and our wise Father in heaven knows when we’re going to need things, too. Don’t run out ahead of Him.”
When I run out ahead of God and His plan for me, I get on all sorts of wrong trains that lead me where I wasn’t supposed to be. When I trust and depend on only myself, I grow weary and anxious because I know I can fail and easily mess things up—but when I place that trust elsewhere, such as giving it to God who cannot fail and who already knows where I’m heading, it makes the journey so much more enjoyable and less stressful. Our senses have a way of telling us when we are somewhere we’re not supposed to be, just as we feel a sense of comfort and belonging when we are in the right spot and the right time.
After Sirius Black does his yelling about waiting for so long, Professor Lupin interrupts and says, “but wait one more minute.” He waited 12 years… he can wait one more minute. I am learning this in a not so easy way. I am stuck in a giant waiting game called, “My Future,” and I want so badly to make rash decisions just to have quick answers, to go with what I want instead of what’s best for me and let my pride take all the credit in the end. I want to run off of the platform and jump on the fastest train leaving the station, but I don’t have my ticket yet. I have been on this platform for years watching the trains come and go, my hand held lovingly by my Father who knows when to hand me my ticket, who already knows which train is mine. So I will watch. I will pray. And I will wait.
