The hall is jam packed, oozing with perspiration and bad breathe, as many have not washed for days on end. The air is thick with mumbling and grumbling; about the stretch of time, about the long merciless wait.
Several have their heads bowed in despair, shuffling their feet, heaving deep despondent sighs. Others tinker with nothingness; the locket around their neck, a broken wristwatch, the bench upon which they sat. Anything to take their minds off the long wait for something – that thing that would launch them into the next level.
A certain few look out the window, their eyes on the road, their minds on the messenger en route with their answers. Every now and then, they pace the floor of the waiting room. Their thoughts counting the seconds, the hours, the days.
A handful keep their heads up. With eyes closed, they shut out the tinkering, mumbling and grumbling. They are in a different place, where the sounds of music fill their hearts with new strength. Their eyes are on the one who created time and the messenger. They know sometimes answers arrive late. And that sometimes waiting can be too hard to bare. So they shut their eyes and sing, they try to please Him who created time.
I don’t know what you are waiting for. Life has taught me that everyone waits at every one point in time. Whatever it may be, remember; There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven.
Written by: Bukkie Allison