Actually, waiting is no game. Waiting in line for coffee. Or arms loaded with potential gifts for loved ones while the customer ahead needs a price check. In traffic attempting to get to work on time or race home. Waiting feels like torture. Particularly when pieces of life are in a holding pattern, circling the landing strip that starts the next leg of the journey. Or maybe like vultures waiting for the next potential meal.
As children, we can’t wait for a birthday, or Christmas, or school to start (or end), or starting high school, or graduation. As young adults, we can’t wait to get to the end of college, or the meaningful relationship, or the dream wedding.
Then there is parenting. When will the baby sit alone, roll over, sleep all night, eat solid food (and stop spitting up), walk, or be done with diapers. When will the toddler understand “no.” When will my child start school, or when will there be a break from helping with homework. I’ll admit I had mixed feelings about the teenager driving – not having to drop off and pick up versus worrying about every minute my child was gone.
Those events pale in comparison to waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop when it has to do with your job and career. Frowns on the faces of supervisors and managers, not-so-subtle hints that budgets are being reduced, rumors of other entities taking over the duties for which you and your colleagues have been responsible – those things can cause ginormous amounts of anxiety and fear. And the waiting game begins. Waiting for job listings, calls or emails to schedule interviews, and the dreaded wait for the “we want to offer you the position” calls – that waiting seems like an eternity. When you’re not the first one offered and you watch colleagues leave one-by-one … It. Is. Painful.
All sorts of negative self-talk can take place, and the longer the wait, the worse it gets. If I allow it. But I can’t. I have to believe I have worked this hard at getting an education, and getting experience, and doing my best work, and showing up every day (never using the allotted sick time, because I hate to let people down or cause them more work) mean something.
Since late September, I have been waiting. And stressing. (And I admit, some negative self-talk – “Why haven’t I heard?” or “Will it be soon enough to take care of my bills?”) When I finally let go of the panic button and started focusing on my record and what I have to offer, things happened. And I didn’t have to take the first offer, even though I was
tempted feeling panic, because it didn’t feel like the right fit for me. I declined, and within an hour received the offer that I felt was best for me. It’s the first time in my life, I think, that I held out and waited for God’s direction, rather than rushing and taking something when I thought I needed it.
I’m looking forward to a new adventure next week. I know my time has been well spent in the last few years, and I’m disappointed that more who are in need will not have the same opportunity. I am certainly sad to leave behind great colleagues who have been just as passionate as I about the work we do. But it’s time to stretch and grow, nest in a new place where I can learn and experience more.
If you’re in a holding pattern, waiting and feeling like what you need will never happen, take heart. Your perfect opportunity just isn’t ready yet.