The Weight of Wait

I am a recovering control freak.

In the past, the trials that have stymied me the most always involved waiting. There was the Wait of '94 when Gregory was at Officer Training School. Could he pass Vigilant Warrior to graduate as a 2nd Lt.? The Second Wait of '94 featured almost a year (interrupted by the other Wait) of expecting to be expecting. Then there was the Great Wait of '98, while we sought a discharge from the Air Force and a job back home. The Wait of '03 tested my patience and my sanity during a house-building venture.

Today, I am able to report that the most recent Wait has ended. Gregory has received an invitation to Candidacy in the Diaconate Formation Program. It many not seem like much to some, but to us, this invitation unveils an entirely new path for our future. My husband will quite likely be a clergyman in three years; an ordained minister of the Church.

It has been about 20 months since this wait began. Although there were moments of frustration, this trial had a decidedly different feel to it. I prayed constantly for a resolution, but I found that my request was truly for God's will to be done, and for it to be done when He thought best. I wanted Gregory to continue in the program, but not at any expense. Not if God had a different plan in mind.

In Waits Past, I had an agenda. I wanted a certain result, and according to a self-prescribed time table. I was not above setting deadlines for God! I realize now that my problem wasn't waiting as much as it was controlling. I don't believe that I trusted God enough to leave the details to His care.

Now...I have learned enough along the way to avoid saying that I am cured of control freakism completely. I'm sure some flare-ups lurk ahead. But, thanks be to God,

I am a recovering control freak.

Press Release

I, dauntless frontierswoman that I am, have explored and tamed the landscape of Page Seven.

Roughin' It

I was looking at the packing tips for our vacation destination - a Christian campground in the hills of Ohio - and noticed their request that all handheld games, iPods and other electronics be left at home to promote family quality time. "Surely that can't include computers!" I thought.

Now I was ready and willing to forego other modern amenities, but traveling without my laptop was akin to leaving some other needed accessory like, say, my contact lenses behind! My new novel was on the hard-drive after all, and all that fresh air and serenity was sure to be a writer's boon. The laptop was definitely coming.

We arrived, registered and located our rustic one-room cabin. As this was our second year, we knew what to expect. The cabins are complete with a small refrigerator, a microwave, and, new this year, air-conditioning, but have no running water.

We all absolutely love these cabins. We feel like the Ingalls. Well, the Ingalls with air conditioning, a refrigerator and a microwave. We quickly made the cabin homey and set out to meet the neighbors. In truth, we didn't actually need to meet the neighbors, since our real neighbors from good old Pa were also our Ohio cabin neighbors!

Anyway, the next few days were filled with spiritual growth and "holy fun". There were trails to hike, horses to ride, services to attend, ill children to tend and deluges to survive. Before I knew it, Friday had arrived and it was time to pack for home. I picked up my computer bag from the corner and put it in the van. It was the first time I touched it all week.

2 weeks

To avoid further confusion I must clarify my last post. My vacation, starting tomorrow, will last only one week.

My comment regarding time spent longing for vacation was an attempt at whimsical rhetoric. On average, people have two weeks of vacation per year, so I was simply discussing vacation as a whole, not mine in specific.

The other week of vacation is typically spent in the highly desirable get-away of Southern Virginia.

Our Turn

We leave for our highly anticipated vacation on Saturday morning. We spend 50 weeks a year looking forward to the other 2.

Any writing time I've had in the past 10 days or so has been devoted to my new novel. Yes, I am pretending to be a writer now. Don't start lining up at Barnes & Noble just yet: I'm only on page six.

Addendum

If I were commenting on my sister's adventures, I would draw her attention to the wisdom given on the Little A'Le'Inn website:

Please remember when traveling to always think of safety first. This includes being prepared for emergencies, vehicle troubles, sickness, adverse weather conditions, and unexpected events. Always have extra water, food, clothing, batteries, blankets, and check your vehicle fluid levels, as well as hoses and belts under the vehicle's hood. Always check the weather reports before leaving and along the way. Being prepared can and will save lives of those that we love. Never take a trip of long distance without letting someone know where you are going and when you expect to arrive. Make certain to include times that you expect to leave and arrive, phone numbers, and places that you intend on staying. Make contact before leaving on your trip and once you get where you are going so that others will know what to do and how to handle things should you not make the connection at your expect times.Do not forget to include a map of the intended roads that you plan on traveling. Map out your routes and have fun so that others do not need to worry needlessly about you.

Red dots, but no other punctuation

In the days before Clustr, it was fun to imagine who might come by and sit a bit with my thoughts. Despite the fact that I had no evidence to support that anyone was caught in one of my prongs, I still enjoyed thinking about these imaginary new acquaintances.

Now I have a pretty good handle on the location of those passers-by. As I mentioned previously, many of the dots coincide nicely with my sister's summer jaunt through the States. But, alas, the lone red dot on the map is the only way of knowing that my beloved sister dropped in to see me for a moment. She leaves no other evidence behind, which is not in keeping with her standard practice, I might add. (I have many memoirs from her stay in my home over Independence Day, for example.)

It is comforting, in a way, to have proof that she checks in from the road. It is also disturbing to find that she is Hitting-and-Running with Letters. Perhaps my small thoughts do not provoke any responses. Perhaps she now thinks it a threat to her career to be found on the blog of an amateur such as myself. I wouldn't know, for she doesn't leave any comments.

I am not a vindictive type, but I have decided that I will remain silent on her blog as well. I will visit, read, shed a tear or utter a guffaw, and move on. She is my mentor, after all.

Dear Sister, if you have come to place another dot, know you are welcome. I look forward to sitting in silence with you as we peruse each other's lives from afar. Godspeed.