And close the door on my morbid sense of humor and return with me to the present. Welcome.
When in a state of restlessness I've found that often the best way for me to help relieve the anxiety that accompanies it is to be outside and to move. So instead of taking my usual route home I walked further than necessary to the bus stop on Michigan Avenue. On the way I gloried in the fresh air, lightly laughed at the groups of children gathering in Washington Square Park, smiled a salute to Newberry Library, and delighted at the prisms of sunshine light dancing in chandelier-filled windows, Starbucks, office buildings, and 4th Presbyterian Church. Thanking the Lord for these things, and acknowledging that beauty feeds my soul, I stopped at my designated steel chariot waiting area (for those of you without an overactive imagination - the bus stop) and...well, I waited.
Being that it was a very windy afternoon and getting colder by the minute, I looked at the bus stop to see when my fair coach should be arriving. The display read 11 minutes. Eleven minutes?!? But that's an AGE to stand here doing nothing. I've been restless all afternoon. I dont't want my physical and mental progress impeded by standing and doing nothing! Ugh!
So I started walking. Oh, I know it was illogical. Walking would actually increase my commute time, and I'd be cold and accosted by the wind in the process. But this wasn't an issue of following logic. I'd be doing something, you see? The physical exertion would help calm my mind, the fresh air would do me wonder, I probably wasn't going to go running when I got home anyway, I could talk to the Lord while walking, and I'd have a great view of the lake and the city to boot. My plan was to walk as far north as I could bear, and then to take a street west to one of the red line stops which would carry me the rest of the way home.
The walk was lovely. Praise songs erupted into worship in my head. Birds were singing (probably). Thankfulness grew with the brisk pace of my steps. I did miss my bike and pondered how this would go much faster if I had Sadie. I grew conscious of how silly I must look in my dress clothes, walking along the bike trail. Then I thought of every time I'd been irritated by people in dress clothes moseying about on the trail while I, the super cool biker had to maneuver around them and pick up speed after passing them. If they are like me, just needing some fresh air and jumping at the only opportunity they would have to get some "exercise" that day, I vowed I shouldn't mentally make fun of them again.
Now reaching a point in the trail where the conscious creative would turn about and snap a photo, I gazed back at the city, my fingers searching my pocket for my phone. This time though, the Lord's voice entered my own thought stream and corrected, "No Kayla, this isn't about the city. It's about Me". Instructing me to keep walking, I did until I reached the juncture where Lincoln Park is adjacent to the trail. "Turn left here." Oh! Okay, sure. "Run up the stairs." I ran the second half. "Take a left at the fork here." Suspicion was growing in my chest. This was not close to a red line station. In fact it'd be closer to return to the station I would normally use, but that wouldn't make sense. I didn't walk as far as I'd wanted. I'd intended to push through as far as I could! Take a couple pictures. Maybe write a cute story from the experience. You know?? Express myself!
But not unlike the Lord when in the middle of teaching his child a lesson, His calm, authoritative voice redirected my steps: "go back from where you came and wait for the bus". Are you sure? I asked, still a little attached to my reasons for this spontaneous adventure. "Go back from where you came. I want you to wait for the bus."
Well...nuts.
Okay.
(About faces and plants feet in the direction from whence I'd come.)
Lord? I mused. This feels like one of those Old Testament prophet stories, where you tell them to do things that don't make sense in order for people to learn things from them...
But once again worship songs flooded my mind and we were walking again, I was enjoying His company, and the next thing the Lord brought to my mind was that He is for me a fortress. I looked to my right and the home standing strong next to me was built like a medieval fortress, made from stone, shaped with round turrets and complete with those square cutouts on the top. I imagined archers with their bow and arrows at the ready, eager to defend a fortress which needed no defending.
Finally, my feet having carried me across the street from the chariot waiting area, that I'd left so impatiently half an hour before to boldly forge my own path and make my own progress, my eyes are shocked with the sight of not one, but three 147 buses. Um, hello,wait! I squirm, internally speaking to the bus, anxious that I'll miss all three opportunities to get home. You're supposed to be more spread out than that! You see Mr. Bus, my traffic light is red, and yours is green, and if you all make it through the green light, then I'm likely to be waiting a very long time for the next bus!
At least another eleven minutes!
Lord? I return to Jesus. This isn't fair. What if I have to wait a very long time now? He replies with a phrase I've heard more often that I'd like to admit: "Do you trust Me?" Sigh, well... I suppose if You could allow three buses to be clumped up in such a fashion, it's possible that one could come quickly behind them and I might not have to wait a very long time. (I attempted to reason out time and sovereignty and their affect on my current situation.) And, Lord? If You don't want me to have any of these buses right now and You want me to wait, I think I trust You then, too.
At this point two buses have made it through the green light, but suddenly the traffic light turns red! My walking signal directs me to GO, my feet bolt into action, and right on time I'm on the third northbound 147 outer-drive-express bus heading home.
Having shared my story with a friend during lunch break the next day she replied, "Boy you really made a big deal out of eleven whole minutes!". But this story was more than a four-minutes-short-of-a-quarter-of-an-hour-wait on a bus. The experience was a metaphor for where I was in life:
In my restlessness I can move forward on my own, thinking my way will be more effective or beneficial, and end up right back where I started. On the other hand I can follow the letter of the law in waiting, obeying all the rules, and not physically moving, but have impatience in my heart, grumbling that waiting is silly. I could do a better job of ___, {whatever I'm waiting for} should have arrived by now.
Doing anything without the Holy Spirit is pointless, and waiting without the Holy Spirit is the same. It is generally riddled with anxiety, fear, doubt, anger, impatience, and lack of joy. When we're infused with the Spirit waiting includes patience that provides peace of mind, and includes trust in the God who sees all and has all together. Patient waiting which trusts our Good Father admits dependence on Him and a lack of foresight that is inherent in all human beings.
We are always waiting on something. Whether it be a dream fulfilled or a bus ride, we are at least in good company (Romans 8:18-30).
There's purpose in the waiting. There's meaning to the journey.
...Just as much as I can enjoy the Lord's presence while walking along the Chicago lake trail with the thought in my head that I'm getting somewhere, I can also learn to enjoy His presence when I'm standing in place and it feels that I'm making leaps and bounds to nowhere.
"...but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint."
Isaiah 40:31
"Love the LORD, all you his saints!
The LORD preserves the faithful
but abundantly repays the one who acts in pride.
Be strong, and let your heart take courage,
all you who wait for the LORD!"
Psalm 31:23-24
