in
the waiting rooms of life
He calls each by name
waiting patiently for ears to hear
for hearts to
listen to His whisper
moved by the wind of His Spirit
many unaware He has them in a waiting room
for courage is needed to admit the waiting room is home for a time
much easier to plan
to pursue
to live out one's own dreams
some seasons in the waiting room
are spent being busy
are spent being busy
doing more
and more
and more
yet not sure why
except that doing
gives a sense of worth
perhaps numbing the heart
to feelings too painful to feel
or running from their own heart
which beats to the rhythm
of His very heart
a noise a busyness
fills this waiting room
chaos usually controlled
yet hearts anxiously beating
faster faster faster faster
searching for purpose and meaning
other seasons in the waiting room
are spent in fear almost paralyzing
silence peaceless fills this waiting room
eyes cast down
thoughts turned inward
hearts anxiously beating
sometimes faster sometimes slower
searching for purpose and meaning
extremes of the heart rarely conducive to
hearing His voice
both waiting rooms and many others
my own heart has called home
running to do
instead of sitting to be
sitting in self pity
instead of running to His arms
this time the wait has felt longer
the room less comfortable
but waiting rooms are not meant for comfort
for the waiting room is not forever
no waiting room does He condemn
no heart does He judge
rather He holds as hearts wait
He gently refines as hearts wait
He tenderly molds and shapes as hearts wait
and in His time
in His place
in His purpose
the heart is led out of the waiting room
to walk into the life He planned
to live in the story written
by His nail-pierced hands
long before time began
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