Waiting

Waiting is hard stuff.  Sweet Eli cut his baby teeth really late, and true to form, they are taking their time about falling back out.  One by one, his kindergarten classmates have parted with their first tooth and received the subsequent visit from the revered Tooth Fairy.  Eli listens closely to each classmate’s story, inspects the newfound gap in each smile, and wonders when it will be his turn.  If you could make a tooth lose by checking it fifteen thousand times a day, Eli would be sitting on a pile of riches.  He wants this next step so badly, he craves the experience his friends are having, and there’s not a thing he can do but wait.  Ahhhh…sweet boy.  My heart hurts for him.

He got a glimmer of hope yesterday when I checked for myself and discovered that his bottom teeth do, in fact, wiggle just the tiniest bit.  I hope that hope will be enough to propel him through a few more months; I’m no dentist, but I just don’t think those suckers are coming out any time soon. 

Waiting hurts the heart and tests the faith.  Sometimes it whispers, “God has forgotten you.”  Sometimes it plucks hope right out of your heart and plants a bumper crop of despair.  It steals on the perspective you have and manages to convince you that you are, in fact, going to be the first person in the history of the planet who will never lose a tooth.  It settles in with “what if” and makes itself comfortable.  It is hard stuff.

I remember well the waiting.  The waiting for a first boyfriend, for a first kiss, for a husband, for a home, for a child.  Some things took longer than others, but even one day of waiting can deflate a hopeful heart.  It can be a time to turn away from faith or a time to turn into it.  I am waiting now.  We got one offer on our house last night; it was so low, so out of line with the comps, that we were actually insulted.  We’ve been told we are getting another today…this morning, actually, although this morning is over and we’re still waiting.  Is the waiting a good thing?  Or will we be back to showings and stress?  And if we do sell, where will we go?  Where will we live?  Will it be a good place?

I know in my heart that God is moving us in his time.  I know He will provide for our needs.  But right now, my head feels like Eli, waiting for that tooth to come out and wondering if it ever will.  It feels like forever.