Waiting — Waiting

 Here I am, sitting at my kitchen table, waiting for my hairdresser’s

appointment.  That seems to be my major thing lately.  Waiting, waiting for

a ride, waiting for the mail, waiting for the rain to stop, waiting for the sun

to shine.  I’m a sun child, need that brightness to recharge my energy.  I

guess I’m really waiting for something to push me into awareness of who I

am, of why I am, and why I am waiting.

In the last couple of weeks I have lost two good neighbors.  Both my

age.  Both, like me, widows.  Both busy, active people with no obvious ill

health.  Both, quite suddenly.  It’s made me do a bit of soul-searching.  I’m

not afraid of death.  I’ve come to see it as a beautiful thing, serene, peaceful,

bright.  I’ve always believed that we’re here for a purpose, and will stay

until that purpose is fulfilled.  Perhaps that is what’s disturbing me now.

I’ve been waiting, not doing.  Waiting for the urge to get my hands in God’s

good earth to make things grow, when what I really need is a good hard

kick.  Time passes by so swiftly and the opportunity is gone if we don’t act

promptly.  The alarm bell is ringing.  God has given me my wake-up call,

my call to action, not waiting — waiting.