I am naturally high strung and move at a fast pace through life. My father calls me Danika Patrick when he’s in the car with me. I don’t like wasted time nor wasted words and frequently “cut to the chase.” I even abhor when my TV system scrolls “please wait” across the screen. This makes me “Hurricane Katie,” I suppose. But I am beginning to realize there is great value in waiting.
My pastor preached last Sunday that the word Advent is derived from a Latin word meaning “to wait.” We are officially in Advent now and I feel I am being taught the value in waiting. I recently fell, accidentally slipping off my porch and injured my back. I had to wait three weeks to heal. It was agonizing but I learned major empathy for my older friends and their frequent falls. I also developed profound appreciation for a single moment without pain. Yes, waiting was good for me.
Try telling a two year old to wait for anything and you might witness a full on meltdown. I witnessed my goddaughter lie down in the service area at a bookstore after her parents told her she was going to have to wait to leave. It was hysterically funny and I imagined what it would be like if adults were allowed to conduct lie down protests? Can you imagine impatient coffee drinkers at Starbucks taking it to the floor over a latte??
We live in an age of instant satisfaction. I like quick results like anyone but is instant necessarily good for me? I am starting to wonder. I have learned that a lot gets accomplished while we wait. Important lessons and valuable training/equipping occur while we anticipate the future.
Patience is a learned choice, I believe. I am working on disciplining the little monster in me that beckons to cut corners and quicken outcomes. I’ve decided it’s a worthy pursuit to wait. It’s what develops and refines me. Instant coffee (yesterday) tastes bad anyway. I’d much prefer waiting in line for a craft coffee any day.
Fourundertwo 