Waiting

The day had been long, hard, and disappointing.  I sat on the stiff chair at the airport gate longing for my flight to be called so that I could go home and sleep it all off. 

I glanced at my watch.  A two-hour lag awaited me.  My muscles cramped with fatigue, and my mind ached with discouragement.  I had come to California to take a certification exam for my work.  I had studied so hard and so long for this test, yet my nerves betrayed me, and I hadn’t done as well as I had hoped.  The thought of having to wait was almost unbearable – but what choice did I have but to wait?

Forcing my thougths off my discomfort, I began to read a book I had just purchased at a gift shop.  It felt good to read for pleasure – something I hadn’t done in months, while preparing for my exam.

Finally, our flight was called and one-by-one weary passengers formed a line.  I made my way towards a pretty lady who stood at the counter.  “I’m flying on stand-by,” I told her, expecting her to issue a boarding pass for me.

“I’m so sorry,” she responded, “but the flight is very full.  Looks like you’re going to have to wait for the next flight.  It leaves tomorrow, at 6:00 a.m. But I’ll let you know once I know for sure.”

My ears began to ring.  This couldn’t be happening.  Oh, Lord, say it isn’t so!

I’ll give you grace.

Oh, gosh, that’s not what I wanted to hear.  So I stood by the counter, hoping and waiting, like a hungry puppy near her master’s table.  But when the lady at the counter turned to look at me, shaking her pretty head with compassion, I knew I was toast.

I cried and I pouted and felt sorry for myself.  Then I took comfort in the words I had heard: I’ll give you grace.

Finding a seat at the airport, as hidden from view as possible, I positioned my suitcase on the seat next to it and used it as a pillow.  I read for a while and then slept like a baby (that is, I woke up every hour hungry, wailing and wanting my mommy.) Eventually, my alarm went off, and I walked back to my gate.

This time I received a boarding pass right away and made it home with no delays.  Oh, how good it felt to put my head on my very own pillow instead of the hard suitcase when I got home!

And as I made my happy way onto dreamland, I thought about all of my friends whose hopes and prayers have received a similar answer to the one I’d gotten the evening before: Not today, perhaps next time.

My heart was filled with such compassion for them.  These are friends who are sick, unemployed or going through difficulties.  The wait is long and hard and painful.  Once again, I took comfort in the words I heard at the airport, the same words God has faithfully spoken to my friends:  I’ll give you grace.

I pray that these same words will fill these dear ones with hope and renewed strength.  Just like Isaiah prophesied: [God] gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. (40:29-31, NIV)

While I Waited

I checked my watch one more time. Five-Twenty. Unbelievable! My daughter’s special present – a lovely silver bracelet and a last-minute item in her wish list – was supposed to have been engraved and ready for pick-up an hour ago.

It was Christmas Eve. My husband and kids were waiting in our truck at the mall’s crowded parking lot. They had dropped me off by the main door. Plan was I’d dash in, get the prized gift, text hubby to drive to the curve, dash out as the crowds allowed, hop in the truck, and drive to church for the 5:30 service.

No problem.

Except, when I got to the store I encountered a long line at the un-manned pick up counter. That’s ok, I told myself, we still have time. So I waited, halfway patiently. But as minutes ticked away, shoppers’ once friendly faces turned tight with frustration.

“What is going on?” the pretty blonde ahead of me asked out loud.

“I’ve been here for almost two hours”, someone else demanded.

“Me too!”

“This is ridiculous” said the lady that stood behind me.

My phone began to buzz. “Mom, we’re sick of waiting.” “Are you ever going to get out of there?” “We’re going to be late for church, Ana.” Now, my head was buzzing.

I noticed that my right knee shook unceasingly and that my feet hurt. I was wearing my cute pumps for I wanted to look good for church and for our traditional fancy dinner with friends, after service.

But now it didn’t look like we would make it to church on time, and if we went to the 7:00 service, our dinner plans would be ruined. Thinking about this made me absolutely furious. Why in the world did these people give you a pick up time if they were going to make you wait in line forever?

Finally, a young woman appeared at the counter. “I’m so sorry, everyone,” she apologized, “but one of our engraving machines broke, so we’re running a little behind.” And then, like a teenage child you call to do chores, she magically disappeared.

I saw red. A little! I turned around and asked the lady behind me to save my spot in line. Then I marched to the pick-up counter, stumping my feet and pumping my fists, readying for battle.

Watch it, Ana.

I didn’t want to watch it. I just wanted answers. And I wanted my bracelet. And I wanted it now!

Love is patient. Love is kind.

I knew that. God knew I work hard to keep myself in check when I’m around clients, or my family, or church people. But this particular instance didn’t count. These were extenuating circumstances. An injustice had been committed, and I was soooo tired, having stayed up late the night before, wrapping presents. Besides, I didn’t know a soul at this sorry store, so who cared if I lost it a little.

The young clerk reappeared. “Excuse me!” I yelled, not bothering to hide my irritation as I made my way to the counter.

She turned around, eyes and mouth wide open.

Oh, don’t give me that look! Don’t you know I am the victim here?

“Excuse me!” I repeated, using the same tone. “I need to know when my order will be ready. You guys promised it’d be ready at 4:30, and now I’m going to be late for church!”

The young woman looked at me for a few seconds. I could see weariness in her puffy eyes. She looked at the crowd.

“I know how frustrated you all must be,” she pleaded, “but please remember these are circumstances beyond our control. Our engravers are working as hard as they can to get your orders ready.

“And, ma’am,” she said, turning to look at me, “I’m only a seasonal worker here. There is nothing else I can do. And remember, this is Christmas. We should all be happier and a little more patient with one another.”

“That’s the spirit!” the pretty blonde ahead of me yelled.

“Yeah, you’re right!”

“We can wait! It’s Christmas time!”

Oh, God.

Wishing I could shrivel down to one little prune, I slogged back to my spot in the line. I looked around the store and thought, what if one day I welcome one of these people at my church? Would they remember me – the jerk that harassed that sweet young clerk on Christmas Eve?

I looked down at the floor and quietly asked God for forgiveness, for not heading to His warning to keep my temper in check and for being a lousy example of Christian love. “And, Lord,” I dared asking, “would you mind hurrying my order a bit? I really don’t want to miss service.”

I know. Some things never change.

Imagine my surprise when I heard my name being called from the counter. This time I wore a sheepish smile on my reddened face.

“Thank you," said the clerk. "And, once again, we’re very sorry to’ve made you wait so long.”

I should’ve been the one to apologize, but all I could do was croak a weak, “It’s ok.”

Like I said, some things never change.

Before leaving the store, I stopped by the pretty blonde that once stood ahead of me, and I said, “I want you attitude.”

“Me, too,” she responded jovially, “I’m usually not like this. But it’s Christmas.”

She smiled. I smiled back.

Then I texted Hubby as I swerved passed the hordes of Holiday shoppers, “Meet me at the curve by the Food Court. I’m ready.”

This time, I was.