Waiting by Lara Holmes

As a child I always had ideas and daydreams of what my future would look like: “When I’m a teenager, life will be like this…Then in college I will do this and that…And when I’m a “real” adult, I’ll live like this. Perfect.” Thankfully, most of those ideas didn’t pan out because as always, God knows better than I ever could. Still, for much of my life I have felt like I was in a waiting period, planning ahead for the next school year, the next summer, the next big family event, the next life change. Being mindful of the future is not a problem in itself and planning ahead is a responsible life skill. But how easy is it for us to think that the plan is only about our heart’s desires and that we can simply will it into existence? Or alternatively, how often do we think that just waiting idly on our own is enough?

This past year has been heavier than most, in different ways for different people. We as a Church found ourselves with limited access to the Eucharist, “the source and summit” of our faith, as the world entered into a deadly pandemic. As a teacher, time with my students was suddenly cut short without a chance to say goodbye in person and celebrate their accomplishments before they moved on to high school. As a daughter, sister, and aunt I couldn’t visit with family as I once did, out of caution for those with weakened immune systems. As a biracial woman I found experiences and conversations I’d reflected on with friends and family now being discussed in wider forums than I’d previously seen. These changes came with grief, anxiety, disappointment, and new understandings of the world around me. I have found myself in a waiting period again. While waiting for resolutions, decisions, guidelines, and productive dialogue I started to question myself and wondered if the community I relied on was enough. It’s often felt like too many things were happening beyond my control.

The daily Mass readings from the first week of Advent include a Responsorial Psalm from chapter 27 and it reorients me on what my waiting is ultimately for:

One thing I ask of the LORD;
this I seek:
To dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
That I may gaze on the loveliness of the LORD
and contemplate his temple.
R. The Lord is my light and my salvation.
I believe that I shall see the bounty of the LORD
in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD with courage;
be stouthearted, and wait for the LORD.
R. The Lord is my light and my salvation.

This is a major thing the Lord calls us to: hopeful reliance on Him and His promises. We hope to be in God’s presence in Heaven and as we seek that in our earthly life we can gain interior peace. We accept a lack of control in our waiting. In seeking to be with God, He asks us to talk with Him and share our burdens. As I learn to do this more often, I find that God will ask for more.

I’ve often had the bad habit of dreaming up the next great thing for the future without always accepting that I have to rely on God for it to happen and that He will ask me to participate in His plan in whatever small way I can. I would wait and dream and plan but not hope in the Lord or ask Him what I can offer for His Glory. I would ask why something hasn’t changed yet but not how I can be His hands and feet. In this recent time of struggle, I found that God has been challenging me; asking me if I can do more to step out of my introverted comfort zone, asking if I can trust Him more. He asks me if I can think from a new perspective, if I can be brave enough to have a tough conversation, if I can listen to Him more than the opinions of others. It’s still very much a work in progress but I pray that this time of Advent will help me to grow in vulnerability and reliance on Him.