Waiting Rooms, Living Rooms
Oh my goodness, friends. How is it already time for another blog post?? I try to post a “real life update” about once a month. In the interest of future posts being very full, I thought I’d go ahead and check in this week! 😊
Much of August and September has felt like a waiting room to me. My heart craves the stability of well-defined plans, the mechanical momentum of a school year getting underway. For a variety of reasons, though, this train has yet to leave the station. 🤪 Life feels different this fall for me. I'm still waiting on a lot of those summer prayers to be answered or resolved. What’s happening, you ask? (You get the details here on the blog!)
I’m not working at school this year. Due to budget cuts, my lovely little part-time tutoring job is not available. There’s always a chance it comes together later in the school year, but for now, I happen to be more available on Tuesdays/Thursdays.
I’m still working at church! Conveniently, it’s asking a little more of me right now. I’m thankful to have the time!
Andrew and I are going on a family trip to Japan at the end of this month! (Yes- Japan!)
I’m finalizing some special projects for Still Good Co. for Breast Cancer Awareness Month in October…before we go on our fabulous vacation.
I’ve been creating a lot of deep, digital work these days! Holy moly, friends. 😳
I’m tabling many things until after our Japan trip: seeking a second job with more intention, Season 3 of The Goodness and Grace Podcast, some major business moves, etc. Hence… life feeling like a waiting room.
I'll share a little nugget that hit me tonight as I unloaded the dishwasher:
Waiting rooms can also be living rooms.
Say what? Pull up a chair, friend. Let's discuss! 😉
When we're hoping that a particular season or phase of life will be short-lived, we don't get too comfortable. After all, our “waiting room” is just temporary, right? This is our mental space in waiting seasons. We purposefully distance ourselves from the perfectly adequate chairs lining the wall, opting instead to pace or hover near the door. Maybe this looks like rehashing our questions over and over. Maybe we turn down a friend's help when we probably could have used it. Maybe the opportunities for support and relief in our peripheral vision grow dim, as we're convinced we're holding out for (insert preferred answer to a prayer here.) We slowly become numb to the amenities this waiting room has to offer us.
I think we can agree that this mentality is…exhausting. Despite our best pacing and asking and agonizing, we can realize that we are, in fact, still waiting.
But one day, when our heart quiets (maybe after a good cry) we notice:
The way the sunlight falls across the floor as the it streams through the window.
The sofa that makes you exhale in satisfaction when you nestle in.
The collection of reading materials that lift your heart.
The sudden realization that this “waiting room” isn't so bad after all.
Perhaps waiting rooms are less for waiting, and more for living. What if God gives us everything we need to live a lovely existence right here, right now? What if we saw this season of life as just…life?
No matter what you're navigating today, I pray you see the amenities your “waiting room” has to offer: kind words, good snacks, safe spaces. Rest assured that God sees us, holds us close, and generously provides all we need. May He open our eyes to see it!
We can live here, friends. And that's exactly what we're called to do. 🩷
I can’t wait to report back on all the things after our trip! 🥰
