Patience

This week just seems appropriate to bring Curious George in to pay a visit to the blog. The illustration above shows the waiting room where George had to sit before he got that shot that was shown in my previous previous blog entry. Another page from one of my favorite books . . . I love Curious George!

Whew. What a week. And to think . . . it's only Thursday.

I am so blessed. In the past several days, I've been reminded of the love, support and friendship that the Lord has given me through incredible family and friends.

Gregg has been down for the count. Literally.

An old high school track injury has been creeping back to haunt him over a number of years now. He finally gave in and decided to have some repair work done, so I found myself playing the waiting game while he was in surgery earlier this week.

It was an interesting time-a little surreal . . . if that makes any sense. It reminded me of times I've sat in an airport terminal and wondered about the reunions and the partings between people in the midst of planes coming in and going out. What kind of stories could people share?

After kissing Gregg and sending him off into the hands of his surgeon, I entered a waiting area holding several others waiting for their loved ones. Off to my right was a mother and her adult son or son-in-law. It appeared that maybe they were waiting for her daughter or his wife to come out of surgery. To my left was an older couple-just before Gregg was taken to surgery, they were hugging an elderly woman who went into the operating room prior to Gregg. Across from me was a woman-maybe about my age. She was waiting for her husband. And so it went. Several other people were scattered in the room-all hunkered down-waiting for the white phone on the desk to ring, alerting each one to the news that their loved one had just been moved to recovery.

I'm not a patient person. In fact, prior to the surgery itself, I teased Gregg-assuring him that I would be so good at caring for him-reminding him of how patient I am. No photo could accurately portray the rolling of the eyes from my husband in response to my comment. I made sure, in my prayer time on the morning of his surgery, to NOT ask the Lord for patience. We all know that NO good can come of that! You want patience? Don't ask for it because He'll give you situations which require it tenfold!

So, it was a bit ironic that the Lord saw fit to dose me with some extra amounts-seeing as how I consciously tried to avoid the topic altogether with Him throughout that morning. One by one, I watched people get up and leave that waiting room after the white phone beckoned them onto other areas of the hospital. The mother of the couple to my left was in and out in the blink of an eye. The mother and adult male with her waited a little longer. At one point I happened to be within earshot of their conversation between each other. She had mentioned something to him about having told some people at her church about their loved one. He nearly spat back at her, angrily admonishing her with "you tell everyone at that church EVERYTHING!! They don't need to know EVERYTHING!!" I know it was a private moment. I couldn't help it though. I looked into her eyes-trying to convey sympathy. She'd reached out to her church family-just as I had done with a few members of mine. It's what we do.

Minutes ticked by. I visited the coffee machine. I visited another room because of too many trips to the coffee machine. As I moved from one place to another, I saw eager family members heading toward Labor & Delivery-where new lives were beginning. In the opposite direction was the ICU waiting area, where I saw family members huddled together-faces stained with tears. We were those people three years ago-when we lost Gregg's dad. I wanted to go into that room-hug complete strangers and tell them that no matter what happens, the Lord remains faithful through it all.

As the minutes ticked by, the waiting area emptied out. Everyone was gone.

Except for me.

I found myself smiling at times, shaking my head in disbelief. I didn't ask for the wait-after all, I'd made sure to not pray for patience. It was all good . . . minor surgery in the grand scheme of things. I really didn't need any of that patience stuff.

But still . . .

Just short of the two hour mark, a man sat down next to me. As I turned to him, I saw it was his surgeon.

"Guess what?" he smiled. "It's all done!" I felt myself exhale. Minor surgery. No big deal. Gregg was fine. So was I.

My patience, however, might need just a bit of tweaking.