When, try as we may, we aim to plan and schedule, God enters our lives and presents a set of circumstances unexpected. In fact, there’s a different time table sliding underneath the one we have established, about the way we think things should go versus the way they in fact go.
This comes to life for me now as I make sense of what it would mean to try and have another baby. Having lost before, I know planning is on some level laughable. That shifting time table is barely perceptible but experience tells me it’s there, in the face of my everyday realities: stressors of all sorts, both the mundane and extraordinary. I am trying to control these, since there’s little else I can control.
In class we just considered Milton’s line “They also serve who only stand and wait”--which resonates with me and anyone who has ever awaited something or some situation that had no definite outcome. I have a specific story now, but I know this line means something to so many who have awaited any change. For those who lost someone to foolishness or spite--awaiting a return; for those who know death is near--awaiting the meeting of souls; for those who long for love--awaiting acceptance; for those who seek resolve that can only come from another--awaiting that connection. So many possibilities.
The standing and waiting isn’t passive. It involves taking on what you have been given, however broken. The broken pieces glitter and shine and call for your attention. In the stillness, making sense of the pieces, recognizing their individual beauty and purpose. Standing, ready--not sitting, languishing--and waiting, anticipating, hoping for wholeness again.