It’s been six months since my last post – doesn’t that sound like a doomed adventure diary entry when they are about to tell you all the near-death experience they harrowed.
Sorry to disappoint, but this is not that. It is almost the opposite. My last post chronicled my adventures in a Starbucks while waiting for a friend to join me. I likened my no-show experience to this dessert-like season of waiting for God to direct me to my next. To show me an ‘open door’ to walk through.
Then the country went into its second lockdown. Literal doors were closing everywhere. My waiting room switched locations. After two weeks of self-isolating, I flew home to physically distance myself from my folks for two weeks before I acclimated into their cohort for Christmas. Some much-needed love and affection from my Mom & Dad were just what I needed after months of this neutral zone I called life.
Yes, but it was good to be surrounded by the two people who love me unconditionally and who first introduced me to Jesus, but it still didn’t change the fact that I was still in this waiting period. I had just switched waiting rooms.
It was also the safest place for me to hit that proverbial brick wall we often hit when our world comes crashing down around us. They were there to listen, to remind me what God’s Word says, to cry with me and when I was ready, to laugh with me.
(I do make it all sound dramatic, but if you know me at all – I am dramatic)
What was supposed to last weeks lasted months, and as much as I wanted to finish my waiting period there, with them – I knew it was time to come home. But to what? What was waiting for me here?
If you guessed my dream job – sorry friend, to disappoint – we aren’t at that point in the story. If you guessed more waiting, then your prize is behind door number…
On my first Sunday back in church, my Pastor’s message about Joseph helped give me a new perspective. I know this story well; my first CD was Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. The abbreviated version of Jo’s story: he bugged his brothers to the point that they threw him in a pit right before selling him as a slave. As a slave, he worked hard until his boss’ wife falsely accused him and got him thrown in jail. In jail, he puts in his time until his cellmates have some dreams; he tells them what they mean. One cellmate gets out of jail, and when Pharoah has a dream, he doesn’t understand; Jo gets the call to leave his prison and tell Pharoah what it all means. Jo gets hired on the spot, lives in the Palace, saves the country from famine, including the brothers who threw in the pit.
I have heard this story too many times to count, but this time something new struck me. Joseph didn’t settle when he was in the pit or the prison; he allowed them to be his pathway to the Palace. I have no idea what my metaphorical Palace will look like, but I am working now to prepare myself for it when it comes. I may be in the waiting room, but I am not just waiting – I am working while I wait.
Blog post image from unslash –Anita Bagg