I wrote this short piece a few years ago, but it’s so timely, I wanted to share it with you.
Yesterday morning, snow fell like a curtain of white in central Iowa. It was mesmerizing, said one of my Miracles students. “I could have gone into a trance just watching it.”
Three hours later, the snow was gone. The sun came out, the birds resumed building their nests, and the spring grass was as green as ever.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes this is how life feels. Take two steps forward, then three steps back. Zoom down the highway until—oops—there’s a temporary delay.
And then there’s the waiting. That hesitation from winter to spring, from conception to birth, from feeling a desire deep in your heart and seeing it come to pass.
It’s as though you’re one of those underground shoots in almost spring, just waiting for enough solar power to push up through the ground and bloom.
Then, just when you think it’s time, a thunderstorm comes along. Or a gray day that slows the growth. And you hunker down, wondering when the break will come.
When will winter finally give way to spring inside you?
I felt this way when I was going through a divorce and waited until I really knew that taking that step was the right thing to do.
I waited until the right book came along that needed to be written, even though I wondered if it would ever come.
I waited a long time for Bob, my husband—and I was not above pounding on the floor, which is where I often found myself, demanding answers for why I didn’t have a partner in life.
We wait for babies to be born, for businesses to take off, for children to get out of school, for them to leave home, for leaders to do the right thing. We wait all the time without control over the outcome or the schedule.
And sometimes the waiting is painful or tedious or boring or frustrating. When, when, when?
I can hear the words even as I type: “All in perfect timing, my child.” Which doesn’t always satisfy me, but does make me feel a bit better.
You may be waiting for something big in your life. You may feel like you’ve done your part but nothing is happening.
You may be angry at someone—maybe yourself—for not creating what you’ve wanted for so long.
You may feel like it’s never going to be your time, your turn.
But remember that winter does—finally and completely—yield to spring. And that the best thing you can do is follow the advice from my friend Dorothy:
“Patience is the ability to witness Divine timing and do something creative in the meantime.”
So enjoy the in-between time. Do all the things on your list that have nothing to do with what you’re waiting for. Take note of all the strength and resources that surround you.
And give thanks for all the unseen angels in motion. When your spring arrives, it will be worth the wait.
Blessings, Deb