racecopy2It may have something to do with when I grew up, or the places, or the people that guided my wandering path, but there was a lot of waiting. “Wait ‘til you’re older” seemed to be the standard response for so many things that seemed really interesting. It may be the reason I was in such a hurry to grow up.

During a number of my childhood years our family lived overseas, taken across the oceans by the big yellow CAT (as in Caterpillar, my Dad’s employer). The separations from extended family were difficult, but probably much harder on my parents. I can remember asking when we would see grandparents and cousins again, and being told “two years…one year…” whatever time it was, and we kept in touch the best way we could before internet, cell phones, email and facebook. Telephone calls were reserved for bad news…so we didn’t really look for calls from the States. We waited.

Today the world is much smaller, and people hop onto planes for long weekends in some remote and exotic locale. It’s just expected—no big deal. It seems I’m always running into 8th graders on the Northshore who just got back from Machu Picchu, or 17 year olds who carry a Eurorail pass in their back pocket. Maybe getting a driver’s license at 16 isn’t the big deal it used to be.

But life is still full of waiting….and anticipation. I’m doing it again, sitting in an airport, saying ‘good bye’ and looking forward to saying ‘hello’ at the other end of two overnight flights. Friends are there…people I have come to know but have never met in person, and some I have met in the States but never in their own land, which is important in getting to really know people. I started working with Rwandans in 1999, and in a more focused and intentional way beginning in 2002, so I have been anticipating this trip for ten years. But so far only my imagination has made it.

Anticipation is actually a part of all journeys worth making. It’s not wasted time (unless we waste it) but is part of the discipline of orienteering—of getting our bearings before we launch. It’s a season of collecting our strength and focus and desire, while learning that we are ultimately not in control. So we wait for love to blossom, for the child to come, for the job offer, for healing and wholeness to be known, for ends and beginnings—the best things can’t be rushed or demanded, but they can be anticipated.

It’s the deep work of wilderness, of exile, of being set aside like Joseph in an Egyptian prison, or even like 30 years in Nazareth for the Carpenter-to-be-Rabbi; never wasted time, but always full of the powerful teacher called waiting….and anticipation. This kind of expectant resting is bound up with the destination in each journey, something to be embraced. Isaiah told the exiles that waiting on God was the source of their renewal and strength, like wind under the eagle’s wings (Is. 40:31). It puts me in mind of the African proverb that “waiting should not keep you from dancing”.

So I’m at the starting line (still), but not for long. And I have my i-pod. So maybe we should expect some dancing, after all.

Jay