The Waiting Room

Don't make eye contact- I might get asked why I'm here, or worse feel obligated to listen to someone else's laundry list of symptoms which brought them here.  I just want to get my alone time with the physician, and head to the car with my prescription in hand, which promises relief in 2-3 days. In and out with a minimum of wasted time, and hopefully without the manifestation of any new uncomfortable symptoms I didn't arrive with.  Quick diagnosis with an even quicker recovery-that's the plan. 
Unfortunately, I'm not in the waiting room of just any physician, I'm in the waiting room of the Great Physician, the Wonderful Counselor. There's no promised time of appointment, I'm just told, "In His perfect time." I'm not sure why, but I feel pulled from my normal, everyday schedule of routine acts of service and living.  Everything I depended on shifted, every certainty changed. After cruising down the Highway of Smooth Sailing, I was suddenly exited on an off-ramp where the road signs were unfamiliar, but my GPS (God's Planned Steps) seemed unaware or unconcerned with the change. There was no "re-calculating"  message.  I found myself hyper-ventilating at the thought of facing the unfamiliar, and frantically searching the rear view mirror for a glimpse of the comfortable. The vehicle came to a screeching halt at the corner of Desert Lane and Wilderness Drive and the GPS calmly said, "Destination directly ahead." I saw the offices of Peace, Trust, and Faith directly ahead with office hours of "Open 24 hours". Great. I don't even have the assurance I'll be seen before they go home for the day.
And so I sit. And wait. I ponder my symptoms- depression, anxiety, loneliness, fatigue, and fear. I know I've come to the right place, but how long must I wait? I've already gotten a thousand other opinions from others- there was no waiting necessary on those.
"You're just out of the will of God."
"You have unconfessed sin."
"God's done with you."
"You're just a dreamer. This is where Christians are supposed to be."  ( This came from a fellow patient who had set up a tent in the corner of the waiting room with a hot plate, who had stopped listening for her name to be called and was content enough to start getting her mail sent there.)
As the room becomes more crowded I notice a chair blocked by an unclaimed shepherds staff, and numerous other items. Seeking to be useful, even here, I took the staff and other items to the desk.
"Excuse me, this staff was left laying in a chair, I think someone left it." With a twinkle in her eye, the receptionist replies, "Oh that was David's. When he left here, he left a king, not a shepherd and didn't need the staff anymore." 
"Oh. What about this rope?"
"That's Joseph's. Rarely do people waiting in a pit, get out and carry their ladder with them. He wouldn't need it in a palace now would he?"
"I guess not...well somebody left this pile of crackers."
"Manna. Wilderness snacks, but they were traded for milk and honey." 
"Well, what about the bulky telescope by the window?"
"Abraham's. He passed his time here counting stars."
"Ok, but who leaves a negative pregnancy test in a waiting room?"
"Sarah, but she had to carry a baby home."
 "How old is this office?" I ask intrigued by the list of clientele.
"As old as the Alpha and Omega." 
"I've never heard of a doctor practicing that long!"
The receptionist laughs as  she replies, "Oh goodness no! The Clients are practicing the Physician is perfecting!"
And so I return to my seat somewhat pacified by the good company I am in.  When I relinquish myself  to not wasting these precious moments, I notice there are no outdated Reader's Digests scattered on the tables, but open Bibles of Scripture, each one highlighting the Word that I need, the promise to stand on, and the perfect verse for this season. Even in the waiting room, the Master begins treatment, assuring me of His presence and compassionate care. As my mind becomes renewed, I become aware of the music playing through intercom- my favorite songs of deliverance which are accompanied by a strong tenor's voice from behind the office door I will soon be asked to enter.  Now, it's no longer waiting, but anticipating. It's no longer tallying the minutes I've waited that consumes me, it's now the countdown of seconds. Soon my moment will come.. but what will I leave behind? What will speak to those who replace me in this chair, revealing the change in me. I run to my car and in a moment return. This token speaks of my time in this room, an item I hope to cling to no more. Next to David's staff -I lay my rear view mirror. No looking back- embracing the future.

Maybe you're sharing this space with me today in God's great waiting room. Take heart. It's the deep breath before diving into the fullness of God's plan, the last dark rays of night before the first rays of a new beginning on a new day, it's the last steps in the wilderness before your first steps in Canaan.
My patient (pun intended) sisters, let us wait together and enjoy our time together in the Crawl-In Clinic. There are many more rooms to explore, behind each we will find the Presence of God, and the fullness of JOY!