Waiting

Encouragement for those with hopes, dreams, visions for more

Photo by Ümit Bulut on Unsplash

Some of us have dreams and visions, a longing that cannot be quenched by anything except the very thing we are waiting for.

We ache for it.
Pray for it. We ask others to pray, hope, wait with us too.

“Our soul waits for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.”
— Psalm 33:20–22

The things we want, we imagine it.
Build entire inner worlds around it.

A different life.
A softer life.
A safer life.
A fuller life. A more meaningful life.

Of Love.
Belonging.
Rest.
Purpose.
Freedom.

And many of us were raised by people who were also waiting.

Waiting for peace.
Waiting for equality.
Waiting for violence to end.
Waiting for enough money to go somewhere fun .
Waiting for good enough health to finally show up.
Waiting for God to come.
Waiting for something to change.
Waiting for good to overcome evil. For justice.

They watched the news.
Read the paper.
Worked themselves to exhaustion.
Survived wars, abuse, poverty, addiction, grief, discrimination.

They waited and quoted these sciptures which gave comfort in times of turmoil.

“The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD.”
— Lamentations 3:25–26

It sounds beautiful, doesn’t it?

To wait quietly.
To trust.
To believe help is coming. To believe that a power higher than you and I would miraculously appear—- someday.

But…

Sometimes —- Most times——He/It is not coming.
Sometimes no one is coming.
And waiting without action is paralysis + delusion.

Many times action is needed, and waiting delays the answers we all have inside of us.

Because while we are waiting, we are suffering.

We are waiting for a new president, a new administration, a better future—
while the current one acts in its own self-interest.

Every day, a new venture.
A new profit.
Another attempt to build a legacy rooted in greed, hatred, chaos, and wealth.

And still, so many of us sit on the sidelines watching.
Waiting.
Consuming one shocking headline after the next.
One act of cruelty after another.
One preventable tragedy after another.

We scroll.
We gasp.
We grieve.
We say, “I can’t believe this is happening.” We say, “ This world is on fire.”

For many—- this world has always been a flame that we watched rise until some of us were no longer people—- but ashes.

The waiting, the hoping, the constant belief that someone else will eventually step in and save us gives oppressors more room to oppress.

Because while we are stunned into silence, they are organized.
While we are exhausted, they are strategic.
While we are waiting for rescue, they are building policy, wealth, influence, power, and legacy in real time.

History has shown us this over and over again.

Nothing changes because people quietly hoped hard enough.
Things changed because people disrupted, raged, and organized something.
Risked something.
Spoke.
Created.
Protected each other.
Refused to be silenced.

Waiting alone has never liberated us.

And in the midst of all that waiting, time moves swiftly.

Everyone gets older.
Bodies change.
Dreams shift.
People die waiting.

And then a new generation inherits the same exhaustion, the same unfinished prayers, the same longing for a world that never arrived for the people before them.

I think there is wisdom in patience.
I think there are seasons where stillness matters.
But I also think many of us have confused waiting with living.

Waiting can quietly become avoidance.
Fear.
Protection.
A life unlived.

Because while we are waiting, life is still happening.

“Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.”
— Psalm 27:14

Many of us have died waiting for mental, physical, literal slavery to end.

Died waiting for cures, the science community refuses to release—

waiting on insurance approvals, waiting for men to be less brutal.

And Some of us are waiting to be chosen.

Waiting for the right person to magically find us in the grocery store aisle, at the cookout, the birthday party, the coffee shop, somewhere romantic enough to make the story make sense.

We are waiting for the old friend to return.
Waiting for someone we overlooked years ago to suddenly become our forever.
Waiting for fate.
Waiting for certainty.
Waiting to finally feel worthy enough to receive love.

We long for companionship, intimacy, belonging, maybe even children.
And so we wait.

But this life is not a fairytale affair.

Fuck waiting.

Love usually arrives through movement.
Through awkward conversations.
Through honesty.
Through risk.
Through being seen.
Through making the first move and then the second and third move too.
Through heartbreak.
Through mistakes.
Through learning.
Through choosing and being chosen at the same time.

Through having the courage to do something bold and different.

The same is true for our dreams.

We cannot sit quietly hoping someone discovers us while we hide ourselves from the world.

We cannot wait for the agent, the publisher, the speaking gig, the job, the contract, the opportunity, the breakthrough, the collaboration—while refusing visibility because visibility feels vulnerable.

We have to participate in shaping our future.

We have to speak up.
Introduce ourselves.
Apply anyway.
Create anyway.
Post the writing.
Send the email.
Teach the workshop.
Launch the offering.
Meet people.
Ask questions.
Take the risk.

We have to tolerate being uncomfortable.
We have to survive being afraid.
We have to stop believing courage only counts when fear is absent.

The many times I recited this scripture— waiting for my abuser to decide to love me—-“But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
— Isaiah 40:31—- and it never happened.

We have to move and participate in life.

We have to become visible enough for the right people, opportunities, and communities to actually find us.

And I say this gently because I understand waiting deeply.

Some of us have spent years waiting for healing.
Waiting for apologies.
Waiting for family to become safe.
Waiting for justice.
Waiting for our nervous systems to unclench.
Waiting for enough money to finally rest.
Waiting to feel beautiful enough, successful enough, healed enough, lovable enough to begin living fully.

But life keeps moving.

And there is grief in realizing we cannot afford to abandon ourselves while we wait for permission to live.

We cannot wait forever.
We will miss too much.
We will lose too much time.
We will watch our own lives pass by while convincing ourselves we are being faithful.

Time is moving, stop disappearing from your own life.

So apply.
Write.
Love.
Travel.
Rest.
Speak.
Dance.
Tell the truth.
Make the art.
Start over.
Take the class.
Flirt back.
Leave what harms you…NOW.
Build community.
Become visible.

And while you are waiting for some things—live anyway.

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