The Waiting Room

An old time Parson Ponders for Lent that may be more valid today than when I first wrote it!

I've spent my share of time in waiting rooms.  Clergy people often seem to

find themselves in those kinds of places.  It used to be that I deplored

waiting rooms. Sitting there seemed like so much wasted time.  But over the

years, I've come to appreciate the waiting room more.  Waiting rooms are

places for pondering.

Last week when I was in the waiting room I pondered my shoes, the nubs on my jacket, the construction of the chair in which I was sitting, the snow outside the window and the posters on the wall.  When there were people present I pondered the people.  Taking a good book along works well too, for there are usually long periods with no interruptions (like for instance, the nurse saying "The Doctor will see you now!)

And of course, there are the magazines.  Waiting rooms give you that second

chance to catch up on things that happened several months ago that perhaps

you were too busy to peruse at that time.  Just last week I finally got to

read the old issues of Newsweek that told the story of Michael Jordan's

retirement, the ill fated military action in Somalia, and the floods in the

midwest.  It is always interesting to read what reporters and politicians have

to say and what they predict will happen next week when you're reading it in a

waiting room four to six months after the fact.

One of the articles I read last week that I wouldn't have wanted to miss was a short reflection by a woman named Michelle McCormick.  She was reflecting on some of these pondering opportunities too.  She was making the case that all of us need these times when there is no outside stimulus, where our minds simply run free.  She said that jogging was one of those times for her.  She

said that she had solved many a problem and written many a story while

jogging.

And Michelle posed this question:  If Isaac Newton were living today and, he

were sitting under the proverbial apple tree would he have seen the apple fall

and thought about gravity being the cause of its falling?  Her guess was that

in today's world where every moment is filled with music or some other

stimulus, he would likely have been listening to a walkman and would never

have noticed the plummeting fruit, and so never speculated on the theory of

gravity.  But fortunately in his time, Newton had the luxury of daydreaming,

of sitting under a tree and letting the mind roam---sort of like sitting in a

waiting room today.

The season of Lent offers us a time to daydream, to sit under the shadow of a

rough hewn tree and ponder what may have passed us by in earlier, busier

times.  Lent invites us to shut off the walkman for a few moments, to sit in

quiet contemplation and look at our world and look at Jesus and see where the experience takes us.  Even Jesus needed the waiting room experience.  His trip to the wilderness as his ministry was about to begin was a sort of journey to the waiting room.  Surrounded by the drab, lifeless landscape, his mind and spirit were free to roam, free to center on possibilities, free to grow.

And so I invite you to Lent.  I invite you to God's waiting room.  Like your

doctors' office, this waiting room is stacked with lots of stories of God's

activity in our lives and a whole cast of interesting people.  They are

all there waiting to take hold of our minds, whether we are bored, weary or

fearful.  They are there to bring us up to date on what we might have missed

in busier times. 

God's waiting room is a beautiful place, a welcoming place, a freeing place.

I hope you will be able to spend time there this Lent.