Spiritual Growth

The Art of Waiting-A Spiritual Practice

The Journey of Waiting

man waiting in reflective practice

 

I’ve been waiting for a long time—over 77 years. I can’t tell you exactly what I’m waiting for, but there’s always something to anticipate. Throughout my life, the nature of my waiting has evolved, teaching me valuable lessons along the way.

As a child, I waited to be old enough for the next exciting thing: staying up past 8 pm, advancing to the next grade, going to summer camp. Young adulthood brought anticipation for the birth of my sons, the harvest of my garden, and the golden promise of life I’d been given.

Middle age had me longing for retirement and the chance to follow my dreams, even though I wasn’t sure what they were. When I finally retired, I spent years waiting for my health to improve and searching for a new purpose.

Today, as an older adult, I continue to wait—for the sunrise, for the mail, for appointments. I’m waiting for a book to be published and to hear news of a great-grandchild’s birth. In the future, I’ll wait for lab reports, diagnoses, and ultimately, for death.

The Revelation: Waiting as a Gift

You’d think I’d be an expert at waiting by now, but I’m still learning the depth of what it truly means. It’s only recently that I’ve learned to be present in the waiting itself. I shudder to think of all I’ve missed by impatiently passing time, waiting for things to change.

I’ve come to understand that waiting itself is a gift—a spiritual practice that nourishes the soul and prepares us for what’s ahead. It’s like a tree remaining dormant in winter, essential for new life in the coming summer.

Active Waiting vs. Passive Waiting

Throughout my life, I’ve tried to fill waiting time with busyness. I worked for the homeless, for progress in my children’s education, for growth within the church. As I aged, I shifted from being an outspoken activist to a quiet, prayerful presence in places needing change. And still, I waited—but with a different perspective.

If I could offer a word of encouragement to those who toss and turn at night, anxious about health, politics, climate change, or finances, it would be this: wait, but wait actively. And I don’t mean wait busily.

Passive waiting is a foot-tapping mode, like leaving the car running with no plans to go anywhere. We quickly run out of gas—literally and spiritually—without moving an inch. It’s expensive, costs us time we’ll never get back, and leaves us impoverished in soul and spirit.

Active waiting, however, is a spiritual practice that feeds the soul and strengthens us from within. It’s waiting with the assurance that “Things have a way of working out” and that “Light will always overcome darkness.” It replaces anxiety and stress with hope and gratitude.

Practicing Active Waiting

When I find myself waiting in a grocery store line, I focus on my breath, inhaling gratitude and exhaling stress. I become aware of the power of a smile or of breathing a prayer of concern while I surrender my impatience to the universe with each exhale.

For longer waits, I find it much harder to connect with inner peace. I can stay busy, of course—going for walks, enjoying healthy food, writing, playing with clay, fiddling, or cooking. I like to help others when I can, donate time to worthy causes, or take my dog for a walk. However, when I get caught up in all these activities, it is easy to forget to wait as an intentional spiritual practice.

The challenge for you and me is to remember that the power is within the act of waiting itself. Because I grew up with the admonition “Don’t waste time,” I developed a habit of busyness that prevented me from accessing the deep gifts of stillness, insight, and inner growth.

Embracing the Wait

Now, I embrace opportunities to wait, recognizing the value of patience, gratitude, and wisdom that come from intentional waiting. Whether in line at the grocery store, stuck in traffic, or waiting for bread to rise, these are all opportunities for spiritual exercise and growth—times to practice silence, prayer, and listening.

I sit quietly, tuning into my heart and listening for guidance. I let silence be my prayer when I’m unsure what to pray for.

Ultimately, this is all practice for the final wait—the wait for death. I want to face that with dignity and inner peace. My hope is to have practiced the art of waiting so that whether I’m awaiting my own death or that of a loved one, I’ll do so with confidence and assurance that I’m connected to something greater than the busy voices in my head.

Through intentional waiting, I aim to hear the gentle voice of Love assuring me that all is well, and all will be well.

An Invitation to Practice

I invite you to join me in this journey of discovering the power of waiting. Next time you find yourself in a moment of anticipation, resist the urge to fill it with distraction. Instead, embrace the wait. Use it as an opportunity to connect with your inner self, to practice mindfulness, or to simply be present in the moment.

Start small—perhaps with those brief waits in line or in traffic. As you become more comfortable, try extending your practice to longer periods of waiting. You might be surprised at the insights and peace you can find in these moments of intentional stillness.

Remember, waiting isn’t just about passing time until the next thing happens. It’s a valuable spiritual practice in its own right—a chance to grow, to reflect, and to connect with something deeper within ourselves and the world around us.

So, I challenge you: Don’t just wait passively. Practice active waiting. You might just find that in learning to wait well, you learn to live well too.


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Ardis Mayo