I watch from this waiting place.
The air seems stale, like it's just waiting to breathe in freshness and newness.
There are windows here, but they are covered with haze and fog. I can't see out.
If I take a finger and draw an opening on the foggy window, all I see beyond it are shifting shadows. Light mingled with dark, but nothing is clear.
What can be good about the waiting place?
Does it give me intelligence? Wisdom? Or just more unknowing-ness?
Does it provide space....
space in my mind to ask questions?
space in my heart to search for answers?
space in my soul to search harder for God?
The waiting place, friend or foe?
My heart will have to decide.
I really like this poem Anne...it is so profound.
ReplyDeleteIn your waiting it is building trust...we see through a glass darkly...but soon we will see what we have been waiting for...Gloria