The Waiting Room- Stephanie Rosebrock

A busy waiting room, with light gray chairs, tables made of wrapped plywood, filled with unanswered prayers in a cubby of faces. Where tension can knock through your skull with the ticking of the second hand; we know it will be over just as days go by without watch.The clock is now the owner and we the slaves to its maniacal sound. Yearning for a new sound; a ticking of heels, not hands…

A busy waiting room, filled with hope dangling from rosaries, prayers said out loud suddenly catch ears of unknowing neighbors- sudden soldiers of circumstance holding out in the trenches together. Where emotion is a crazy beast we try fighting but it pounds inside your chest, your bones, aching to unleash it’s untamed wild, sitting silently seems the norm but never enough.

A busy waiting room, emptying and filling as faces move on, move up, move out to the next waiting game; seems at the same moment freedom as it does confinement. Where we have become support for one another, gripping to words of support and words of instruction and words of direction, words…words…words… and are suddenly transformed into salvation. Heels click- not hands! Words speak- not silence! Waiting now is renewed hope- not unknown fear!A busy waiting room transforms simply- but moves us forever.

Photo credits

“Cleveland Clinic Waiting Room” http://www.ohio.com/polopoly_fs/1.223358.1309493367!/image/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/landscape_500/clinic06.jpg

“Praying Hands” http://reformedtheology.ca/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/praying_hands.jpg

“Heart Beat” http://core.spansion.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/HiRes1.jpg