Waiting is hard. As a child, minutes seemed like an eternity, didn’t they? I feel like they still do. Ask anyone who’s ever worn Crest Whitening Strips. A minute is a LONG time. String 30 of those together, trying to keep weird plastic-y things on your teeth, and you’ll begin to respect that tiny little minute. That minute has more power than you do. Am I right? I’m preaching here!
If you’re wearing whitening strips while reading this, stay strong and read slowly. By the time you’re finished, you’ll only have 25.5 minutes left.
Lately, I’ve found myself in a season of wait. A season where days seem like weeks and months seem like years. Everything I strive to do moves at the speed of concrete. As someone who’s used to progress and tends to move faster than the speed of light, typically dancing circles around all of those in slow motion, this season has me second guessing EVERYTHING. When something takes too long to achieve, I begin to wonder if it’s meant to be. I start to question my desires and wonder if I should be pursuing something else, because this item didn’t come easily enough. That’s laughable, isn’t it?
I’ve been spoiled by ease.
So, when not one, but 3 big goals I set for myself had me waiting, I realized that this season of wait could potentially be happening for a reason. It’s a season of learning. This season of wait is a season of growth. This season of wait has nothing to with the goals themselves and everything to do with whether or not I’m ready for those goals. And, as so profoundly pointed out by a beautiful friend of mine, this season of wait is a big lesson in control (or lack thereof).
I’m learning to love the wait. It’s not easy, and I could get so wrapped up in getting to that next big thing that I completely bypass these minutes, months & years of waiting by obsessing over where I want to be. But, I’m choosing to use my time wisely – to focus on bettering myself and to allow God to work through me. When and if the plans I think I have finally to come to fruition, it will not be me who gets the credit. Because, God’s minute was much more powerful than mine. Makes me rethink the definition of “my plans” and realize they never really belonged to me…
What are you waiting on currently? How is that period of wait affecting you, and what are you learning from it? White teeth are worth 30 minutes of plastic wrap, aren’t they?