“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the
conviction of things not seen.”
“You are silence and song, you are plain as the day, but
you have hidden your face--For how long? How long?” ---Andrew Peterson, The
Reckoning
It’s been a year of waiting. Waiting for mom’s healthy
return from the hospital. The return home in hospice. Hospice by its definition is a waiting. The
final ‘home-free’. Then a parenthesis.
Open-parenthesis; the memorial service. Margaret’s’ waiting
is over. Now the children wait. Our son married in March. The wedding is both
an end to waiting and the beginning of a process of marriage. Returning home,
the waiting continues.
The house is up for sale. We must move. Searching for a rental.
We Zillow countless houses, make calls to realtors, open-houses after work.
Hoping to find the right one; making an offer, waiting for acceptance. In all
the waiting there is tension.
The wife is looking for work. They want her for interviews.
Anxiously she pursues the process. Again the waiting. The tension. We want the
waiting to end. But what if she doesn’t get the job? What if we don’t find a house? Pressure is
walking through the process. Hope is that the outcome will satisfy.
Easter is a time of waiting. We taste the disciples last
week with Jesus. This “walking with’ as we celebrate passion. Holding on while
hosannas rattle windows and high-priests. The confusion of that first
communion; Roman soldiers, kangaroo court, crucifixion. Taut and heart
wrenching the same question asked; the same cry ascends, “How long?”
The resurrection doesn’t end our longing. It affirms the
answer. In the parenthesis we live as aliens aching for a place to settle. We
all seek security. Afflicted and needy we want the pain to stop. The
resurrection assures us we will be satisfied. There will be a final celebration,
final homecoming, final reunion. The waiting will be over. Close parenthesis.
