waiting

Tonight I had to wait.

I was visiting a friend in the hospital, an older man who's been very much part of the life of Christ's church over years. He isn't well at all. Intensive Care.

So I understand, all right, the need to wait.

I'd been there maybe 20 minutes, maybe more, when a nurse at last came out. I'd even managed to form a bit of a queue by this time, which was sort of reassuring. We all of us said whom we wanted to see and the nurse went off to see if that was feasible.

'No problem', she said when she returned, 'just follow me'. That was to the other folk. Who'd been waiting far less of a time than me. But, hey, the first shall be last, I guess.

At last she came out again. I'm sorry, she said. To me, this time. Are you able to wait?

Well, I thought I'd been doing pretty well. Having been there 20 minutes without a single grumble and without a constant recourse to the bell, yes, I thought I'd been doing quite well. So Yes, I said, I think I'm able to wait.

Maybe half an hour, then, please, she said. As in a further half an hour.

Which was fine, at least in principle. Except I had a meeting which was due to start by then.

I said I'd come back later.

And I did. It was nearer 10pm by then. But I got to see the man. And I have to say I was glad that I'd hung around (albeit I'd been off and done other things between) and seen this man eventually.

He's none too well, but there's something very comforting in seeing the way the nurses do their job. It's a sort of one-on-one type of nursing there, of course. And the nurse tonight was called Rachel.

What a star! How well she knew her stuff, just what to do and when and how. And always in a manner that was gentle, soothing, kind. Explaining to me as she went along what it was she was doing. And why.

It was worth the wait to see this girl in action. A bit reminiscent of the way they'd all been with my Mum in the hospital, too.

They've so much to do, attending to patients like that, I can see why they have to keep people like me simply waiting for quite a long while. At least, once I was in the ward myself and saw behind the scenes - well, then I could see for myself the reason for the wait.

I guess a lot of life involves us all in waiting. Most of the times we're not allowed behind the scenes. So most of the time we can't begin to figure out just what it is that's going on. What God is busy doing.

Just wait, I think he often says. Which upsets our constant craving for the future to be now.

Most of the time I suppose we've learned (and like) to live too fast. Our days are far too full. We try to cram just so much in. Or maybe that's the pressure of our modern world - we have to cram just so much in.

I try to make my days have 'waiting space'. Time to pause and think and pray and chat and read. Time when I learn to .. well, simply wait.

That's the sort of rhythm which I try myself to build in to my days. Action and activity: then pausing, praying, pondering. Going and stopping.

The green and the red of an inner set of traffic lights directing the flow of my day.

The green light times today have seen me meeting up with folk who're holding a conference here in just over a couple of weeks: conducting a service of thanksgiving along at the crematorium: attending the midweek lunch-time service here (Craig was the leader and preacher today): meeting with one of the leaders here and addressing some awkward challenges still to be faced: typing up a single-sided information sheet to try and give a picture of just where we're at these days.

All that and a whole load more. I don't for a moment get the feeling the lights are stuck at red! The lights are at green through most of the day. Or so it sometimes seems. I'm not sure that I get the balance always right.

It's mainly these 'green light' moments that I write about each day. I realise that. The waiting times don't make for much of a read.

But they're no less vital, too. Waiting and working. The two going on in harmony.

And I sometimes think that pattern is reflected on the larger, full-scale canvas of my life.

There are times when it feels like I'm waiting. I can't begin to get behind the scenes and see just what it is that God is busy with and why I have to wait. I only know that's what I have to do. Wait. And wait. And wait.

And other times it's work, work, work and work. The meeting at night was all about that. The urgency required from all of us in these days.

These are days when the lights are at green, I think.

It's late in the day, as it were. There's work to be done on the 'patient' which is our society. And I have a part to play. I'm needed there and welcome there, as I was in the ICU.

It's more than just a man, I see, whose life is hanging in the balance. It's very much society at large.