In the supermarket parking lots, piles of stale snow are fringed with gray. Brown lifeless lawns dot our street, and my garage floor holds the soot of winter.
My heart longs for the tender green of spring. And I wait.
None of us are new to waiting. We spend a good part of our lives waiting.
We wait for the coffee to brew, for the stoplight turn green, for the mail to arrive.
We wait for the baby to be born, for the birthday to come, for school to start, for school to end. We wait in hopes of getting a job, for test results, or for a phone call.
Mostly we wait in hope that something good will happen.
It’s easy to think that these times of waiting are not important. We want to move on to the next thing — the newest thing — the latest smart phone.
Yet in this world of instant gratification, I am told there is value in waiting.
Readers, what do you think? What value have you found in the waiting times of your life?