The older I get the faster time seems to be getting away from me. As a child, hours seemed to crawl along like the turtle in the race with the rabbit. Older folks would talk about how fast time would go as we aged, but of course, teenagers didn’t really believe that.
When school started on Monday, it seemed like forever before Friday arrived. Or if Joe and I were planning a date for Wednesday night, those hours leading up to our date time would drag like they would never end.
But as a young child, the worst times of waiting were those last few days and nights before our annual trip to Myrtle Beach. Especially that last night before we were to leave; it was spent tossing and turning. My mother would insist we go to bed early since my stepfather always planned to leave at 5 a.m.
I think waiting for the birth of a child can seem like “forever,” especially if you are the one suffering in hard labor. I know my oldest daughter was five days late and we were anxiously waiting those last hours!
My most recent episode of waiting was the last night before I was to come home from the Lutheran Home. When I fell on Sept. 18, 2013, and broke my pelvis in three places, I was told it might take six to eight weeks to heal.
Since a lot of that time would be spent lying in bed, I expected time would seem to stand still. But after the first two weeks in the hospital, I was transferred to the Lutheran Home for rehab and was busy every day.
Some nights seemed to go rather slow because when I would wake up needing something for pain or a “potty” break, I would not go right back to sleep as I usually do at home. Instead, I would read a chapter in my Bible and write the rough drafts of this episode of my life.
It seemed as if that last night would never end. But, as usual, “the sun will come up tomorrow” and after only five weeks (rather than the six to eight that I had been told might be required), I was packing to go home. I still had to wait in the van while we picked up some groceries and medicine. Once I arrived home, I recalled how long I would have to wait for appointments with the nurses, therapists, etc. Home therapy would continue for at least four weeks and that limited what I could or could not do.
There are times when I feel like I am “waiting to go to heaven.” And there have been episodes when I have prayed God would end the waiting period and take me to heaven where there will be no lines and life will be eternal. But one of my favorite scriptures, Isaiah 40:31, reminds me: “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint.”