The two younger brothers saw the ‘free ice cream’ sign and helped themselves. It was very runny and thin which made them laugh. I helped my travel weary self to a booth near by, propped my feet up and laid back.
Soon my husband and the third and eldest brother traveling with us home from Houston came over and they filled their cones with runny soft ice cream as well. Maybe they keep it runny so people don’t take as much I wondered?
It didnt’ take along til we got half of our order and then more waiting for the rest. The eldest and most reasonable at the time commented that it’s strange we’re waiting this long for basically the same type of sandwich, just bigger. My husband was the driver and that can have an effect on you when you’ve been on the road for 5 hours in one day. He had paid for the food and didn’t think to check his receipt. He mentioned later to feeling ‘out of it.’ Houston is 3 hours down and 3 hours back sometimes longer if you get caught in traffic.
But we’re not complaining. We were glad to take the boys down to see their dad at MD Anderson. We were glad to get to see their dad, Jason’s brother, again too and Jason was able to donate platelets for him which he received the following day. Jason ended up giving me the free t-shirt this time because he already had the same design that was only available in his size. I wished they would have had a 2T size for Gavin. Wouldn’t he look cute in a ‘Give Blood, Save Lives’ tee?
Just like Tim with Leukemia in the hospital waiting to hear the word remission, we waited for our fast food. Sometimes that’s all you can do. Wait. Wait and wonder. Wonder if you are forgotten. Wonder what’s going to happen next. Will we get what we want? Wonder with hope for things to come, like our food or for healing. We wonder how long the waiting period is going to last because golly, haven’t we waited long enough?
I don’t know if we wondered if an angle would show up or not but one eventually did. An older lady, manager-ish type waltzed over and inquired on what we were still waiting on. Back at the ordering counter they quickly got the confusion cleared and in maybe a good 5 min we were back on the road with the yummy smell of BBQ crammed in the jeep with the rest of us 5 people devouring sandwiches.
Lucky for us we didn’t wait a month for our food to come. Unlucky for Jason’s brother with cancer he’s been waiting months and months for his healing portion; perhaps a miracle. Or better yet, an angle to waltz into his room and proclaim they’ve miraculously found no cancer in his body!
Life is full of waiting rooms. Sometimes without even being aware we leap from one waiting room to the next. We get one answer to prayer by being escorted into the next waiting room. Jason’s brother prays for his fever to go down, which eventually happens and then he waits for blood and platelets, after that he’ll wait a couple more days for test results and Dr updates and then wait another day or two to start Chemotherapy. And then wait 30 days until something else. I’m not sure what but probably more waiting to see if the chemo worked.
Waiting takes long. It takes days. Days that turn into weeks and somehow a month.
My friend is very large and pregnant and waiting for her baby to come. She’s waited 9 months. If she’s like me, next she’ll be waiting for the baby to get to that first year. Baby’s are cute but baby’s take a lot
of sleep and energy from you. And you wait for them to grow up. Smile, roll over, sit up, get teeth, crawl and then walk and talk.
Maybe life is one gigantic waiting room. It seems we are always waiting for something and looking for the future and what’s to come. Right now I’m looking forward to going to Pennsylvania to see my brother get married and my sister-in-laws soon to be adopted two kids for the first time. I’m waiting the final 3 weeks out to finally fly. They are waiting these final 3 weeks out to get hitched and to sign adoption papers.
When we get back I’ll be looking forward to the next thing and then the next. And we spend our days waiting on time. Eventually our lives will come to an end and the waiting will stop. We will have arrived. For the believer, that’s heaven. I can’t imagine a place with no more longing of things to come. A place with no expecting for tomorrows. Because everything we will have longed for and hoped for, all those desires will be meet.
One day in heaven we won’t long for healing. I’m no theologian but I think we won’t long for our next meal either. And we will have nowhere else to look forward to going because we have finally arrived. We won’t need anything or want anything. We will be fulfilled to the fullest.
And so with great hope to come, I’d like to learn to live in my waiting room moments and enjoy life. I can’t speak for people with cancer because I have no idea how difficult it would be to wait in a hospital bed and be making the most of it. See, usually I try to wish the difficult times away. Selfishly push through them and get to the next day at least. Especially when I was pregnant at the end. I was just ready to have that baby which I’m sure my friend is the same way today.
But, what if I sat and enjoyed my son and husband instead of isolating myself in my waiting misery? What if I looked around and found the joy hidden in difficult people, small hospital rooms or runny soft ice cream, a big swollen belly, even a pile of dirty dishes that never seems to go away?
I think it takes people who are incredibly brave in hard seasons to risk their
life sucks feelings and learn to live in the moments of waiting by choosing joy and choosing to be fully alive in-spite of it all.