Restlessly, as I reflect, in general, on life and, specifically, on these past days of earthquake, fire, tempest, and flood, I think about waiting. I am constitutionally, perhaps characterologically impatient. I don’t like waiting. Oft I’ve mused that if everything, even most things happened as I desired, then I wouldn’t have to wait. But life isn’t like that. For me. For anyone. Despite the sometimes grand significance of our need and the always great sincerity of our want, there is much beyond our command and control. So, we wait…
in line,
in traffic,
by the phone,
for the mail, whether electronic in speed or snail in pace,
for meetings to begin and to end,
for planes and trains,
for time to pass,
for one another,
for results of school exams,
for reports of medical tests,
for return calls from potential employers,
for our partners or spouses, children or parents, families or friends to change,
for word from loved ones at times accident or natural calamity,
for help and healing, relief and release,
for birth and death,
for God…
However, today my restlessness provokes this persistent question: Who – and where and how – is waiting for me to act for good?