And not just at the doctor's office or in line at the store but really waiting.
Waiting to go to college so I could taste freedom.
Waiting for the semester to end so I could resurface and breath something not-journalism or comma related.
Waiting for a ring, so I could become John's wife.
Waiting for a baby, so I could become a mother.
Waiting for winter to melt into spring.
And I wonder, if I added up all those minutes I spent waiting to live or love or maybe even just enjoy, piled them high and attempted to climb to the peak, how far gone would I be from having my feet planted on firm ground, cemented in reality.
How many moments have I waited away, not enjoying the sweetness of the seconds I spent with a tiny baby nestled deep inside my 9-month-pregnant belly or the butterflies fluttering around inside my stomach before my wedding day or the secure, soft comforts of living under my mother's roof or the moments spent snuggled on the couch while watching big fat flakes fall?
And in all that waiting, I've rarely put such a honed skill to good use; the times I've waited on the Lord are far and few.
Until now. Because I'm not going to wait on my circumstances anymore. I'm going to wait on His voice instead -- no more, no less.
Five minutes feels so short when I'm writing. This week's Five-Minute Friday prompt at The Gypsy Mama was "On Waiting." There are no rules except to abandon all rules of editing and style and word choice. You simply just need to write for five minutes. And then go encourage others who have done the same. Simple!