The Neverending Story

I love stories. I love to listen to them, read them, and even tell them. I like to tell stories with details that add a little flavor to the narrative and give listeners a little glimpse into the characters and the setting. I guess if you could compare my taste in storytelling to famous literary figures, I would probably be similar to a Tolkien, or my own professional research interest, Herodotus, the father of history. Both of those literary figures engage the audience with tangents that add depth and flavor to the story and provide a little mental rest from the driving narrative.

Recently, however, my own dear wife shattered my story-world. She told me that my stories are too long, and that they have too much detail, and that I needed to cut down on the number of details I included in my stories. Like a good husband, I took her advice to mind, but my heart broke. My world of story-telling will never be the same again now that I'm so self-conscious about how long my stories are. I deeply apologize to those who may have had to bear through one of my epic narrations. I promise to work on that fault and maybe attend rehab (but if I'm in rehab with the literary likes of Tolkien and Herodotus, it can't be that bad!)

The second half of this post may or may not be entirely serious, partially serious, or not at all serious (she did tell me my stories are too long, but I continue to lovingly disagree with her!)

The Art of Waiting

Most of us spend a significant portion of our lives waiting for something. We wait for the light to turn, our husband, wife, or kids to come home, or for someone to post another blog. Whatever way you look at it, we spend a lot of time waiting, and in fact we just finished a holiday season which relies strongly on waiting. I remember as a kid waiting impatiently to finally see what was in those presents under the tree. I waited for so long that I felt I couldn't wait any more without bursting. As I have matured, I have come to recognize that waiting is a skill that must be honed and practiced.

There are two prominent natures to the skill of waiting: anticipation and frustration. When we are young, we are overwhelmed by the extremes of both natures, so the idea of waiting for something is both desirable and undesirable at the same time. As we grow and mature, the dichotomy of waiting levels out because we understand it better. We have learned to anticipate but not over-anticipate, and we hopefully have learned to quell the frustration with a developed sense of patience.

All this nonsense to get to my main thought. I have been reconfronted with the dual nature of waiting as I wait for the decisions to start arriving from all of the schools where I applied. I am experiencing a great amount of anticipation because I am very excited about the next step in my life, but I am also incredibly frustrated because I have absolutely no control over what the schools decide. Everything that was in my power went out in the mail just a couple weeks ago. I'm having a hard time letting go and just waiting because I want to have some sort of hand in where I will go to school and live for the next five or six years. With this thought I realized that waiting is not only a test of my patience, it is also a spiritual discipline. Waiting, for me at least, requires trusting that God will illuminate the right path. With everything out of my control, all I can do is let go and let God work.

I am in the midst of an exciting and uncertain time right now, and it may be filled with much anticipation and frustration, but what better way to endure it than to sit back, treasure each day on its own, and enjoy the wait.