Finding peace in the waiting room.


When I started this blog I thought that it would just be a great way to get my thoughts out, maybe pull myself together a bit. I’ve found that instead, blogging has become almost a full-time job. I find myself constantly thinking about what I’m going to blog about next, making mental notes when I feel something is important enough to share.

A couple of weeks ago I was sitting beside my dear sister in the hospital. She had the flu. She had the IV and at that moment she was resting. It’s nice to see her have a bit of peace after the previous couple of days. The night before the hospital she was sick every hour…literally, 11:45,12:45,1:45, so on and so forth. Every time I’d hear her start to moan I’d pray to myself,  God give her peace, mostly for herself, but also for me as I’d stayed the night at my parents to be with her and I knew my alarm would be going off early (there’s my itty bitty selfish heart that we’re working on). By about 4:00 am as I heard her start to moan and was getting up to check on her, I was angry with God – why are you ignoring me?! I asked you to give her peace and you haven’t yet.

But he finally had. He answered me, just not on my timing. Sitting there in the hospital I saw everyone including myself expecting instant results. Why isn’t the doctor here now, why is she still sitting here? I think of the hospital a lot like a church, where the sick come to be healed, the suffering comes to be free and where the weary come to find rest. You don’t come to the hospital because you’re healthy, you come because you recognize that you need help. Some people see themselves as being too far gone – that’s how I saw myself.

I only felt comfortable in the church when I thought that I was right, when I thought that I was going in the right direction. There was a point where whenever I’d go to church I feel like people were staring and whispering (look, theres B, haven’t seen her in a while, wonder where she’s been? Can’t be good…) I felt like every person could peer right into my soul. That is nerve-wracking. I felt like everyone thought that I had made a mistake by taking the path that I did even though I know that if I would have stayed where I was then I would have been even further away…and in a whole lot deeper than I am now. Sometimes church doesn’t notice the hurt in their own sheep, and sometimes even make it worse.

When did church become a place that the hurting felt the need to hide? Can I just make a point and say that it is not right. If you are hurting or struggling don’t hide – you’re not the only one. So stop telling yourself that you are.

You are not going to walk into a church, snap your fingers and expect life to be perfect. You don’t become a christian because you are perfect. You become one because you recognize that you’re not. You accept that you need help, and that you have a God shaped hole in your heart that you need and desire to be filled.

Just like the hospital with the doctors, God doesn’t always answer in the way or timing that we’d like. The emergency room couldn’t bring her out of the waiting room because her place hadn’t been prepared, it wasn’t her time to go in yet. It was going to be on their timing not hers.

We just had to trust that they knew best, and they did.

Let go. Fear less. Trust God more.

2 thoughts on “Finding peace in the waiting room.

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