A week ago today, my church held a Women’s Ministry event about waiting on God; waiting for Him to answer prayers, fulfill promises, bring us to a better place, etc. While the speaker was talking, I was certain that there was nothing in my life that I was waiting on God for. I was certain until she brought up the story of Sarah and Abraham, and how they waited 25 years for the Lord to bless them with the baby that they were promised.

While we were going through that story, it all clicked. I’m not waiting on God for a baby, but I’m waiting for God to tell me it’s the right time to try… and not just me, but my hubby, who is fairly reluctant about having another baby, in part, due to my rough pregnancy, challenging delivery, and horrible bout with postpartum depression. I’d be lying to you if I said that I’m content with waiting. I’ve been extremely impatient. It’s caused a lot of heated discussions in our home, and it’s been hard. I’m still waiting. My heart is aching for another child. It also feels like everyone around me is either pregnant or has just given birth, and each time I hear of another pregnancy, I cry. Each month, when that blessed time comes (not.), I cry. It’s not like I’m not happy for those people, I am. Babies are HUGE blessings and I’m so happy for them, but I’m sad that it’s not me, and that I really have no idea when it will be. So, I wait. I’ll wait until Mr. Wonderful is ready. I’ll wait to become pregnant once that decision to “try” has been made.

So really, I am waiting on God. I’m waiting on God to make this clear to both of us. I’m waiting on God to increase my patience and lessen my nagging. I’m waiting on God to show me that I do not need a second child to feel “complete” (which, BTW, makes me feel awful in and of itself). I’m waiting on God to show me that life right now is enough. I’m waiting on God to comfort me in my sadness and jealousy. I’m in the Waiting Place, but really, I think that I’ll always be waiting on something. In the meantime, I’ll be working towards trusting God more and trying to control things less.

The whole idea of waiting reminded me of a couple of pages from Oh! The Places You’ll Go! about the Waiting Place. It’s been replaying over and over and over in my head for a week now. So, I leave you with this…

And when you’re in a Slump, 
you’re not in for much fun. 
Un-slumping yourself 
is not easily done. 

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. 
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. 
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin! 
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? 
How much can you lose? How much can you win? 

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right… 
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? 
Or go around back and sneak in from behind? 
Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find, 
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind. 

You can get so confused 
that you’ll start in to race 
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace 
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, 
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. 
The Waiting Place… 

…for people just waiting. 
Waiting for a train to go 
or a bus to come, or a plane to go 
or the mail to come, or the rain to go 
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow 
or waiting around for a Yes or a No 
or waiting for their hair to grow. 
Everyone is just waiting. 

Waiting for the fish to bite 
or waiting for wind to fly a kite 
or waiting around for Friday night 
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake 
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break 
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants 
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. 
Everyone is just waiting. 



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