What am I waiting for?

What am I waiting for? I ask myself this question about six times a day. I think that I’m waiting for divine intervention or for the phone to ring or for Google to send me a map to follow. What am I waiting for?

How about you? What are you waiting for? I’ll bet that you didn’t know that you were actually waiting for something until I asked, did you? Me either, until this darn question arrived in my inbox. That’s the way it is with questions. They’re sneaky.

Over 50 years ago I was farming and stacking hay on a sweltering hot August afternoon. I had muscles then and chaff and sweat running down my bare teen-aged chest and one pretty girl looking on. “What am I waiting for” kept pulsing through my mind. “Now’s your chance, stupid,” I thought to myself back then. So I did what every American boy would do. I handed her my wristwatch, you know, for safe-keeping because she’d have to return it to me eventually, right? It worked. It was true love. This year we’ll be married 45 years and counting. See what happens when we answer questions like this?

Four decades ago we were young, perfectly healthy and broke. It was a good time to leave for Australia or Alaska or to have kids. “What are we waiting for?” turned into a family of five and now grandparents of six. I am no longer perfectly healthy or broke but alive for the noise and commotion of family at full-throttle. Some questions are better answered sooner than later. Australia? Still on my bucket list.

Even God asks Questions

Almost 25 years ago I received a postcard in the mail that asked, “Does God keep you up at night? It came from a theological seminary near Boston. It was a teaser, designed to pique my spiritual curiosity. It worked. It really bugged me. It took me three weeks to get the question out of my head. Whatever made me jump into my car and drive the 75 miles to the seminary’s campus just to have a look is beyond me. Three and-a-half years later I left with a Masters of Divinity degree. Some questions, I’ve learned, take hostages.

image that reads Does God Keep You Up at Night?

Last week, Joshua, age 9, said, “Grampa, I have a question. “When’s it my turn for Grampa Day?”
“Next Tuesday right after school,” I said. Some questions are beautiful to hear.

How about you? What are you waiting for?

Text and images by K. Lee

Author: Kevin Lee

In a nutshell, Kevin fesses up to the following: He's a retired youth advocate-counselor, a blogger, writer, photographer, rower, Friends Minister, grandpa of six and married to a terrific woman for 43 years and counting!

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