The small room was situated between the hallway and the x-ray lab. It was painted mauve like the rest of the front office with a sitting bench and wall hooks for clothes. There were two doors. You entered through the first, changed into your drape, and then exited through the second into the lab. After the x-rays it became the waiting space. You waited in your drape until the tech told you the pictures turned out. Then you could put your clothes on and leave. I was there in preparation for surgery set for the following week. I was obedient to their instructions – draped myself, got x-rayed, waited for my release.
I waited. The waiting sure seemed to be long. But, then again, all waiting seems long. I waited some more. In my waiting my mind ruminated over life’s current crises. Not only was I facing surgery, I was facing uncertainties at home. Were we going to move? Where to? How? Was Jim’s job stable? Would he quit his job? And the topper was that coming weekend the fitness company he worked for was having their annual “Blast Off” at the Anaheim Convention Center. I hated these meetings. They were like the Academy Awards for sales and everyone looked like Hollywood stars physically fit and decked out.
Sitting on the bench in my drape I heard faint voices and then nothing. I waited. Seriously, this was getting annoying. I opened the door to the hallway and called out. Nothing. I called out again. A surprised voice answered. They had forgotten me. Everyone had left for lunch and they had forgotten me in the waiting space between check-in and x-rays.
There is nothing worse than being forgotten, not even being ignored which is pretty bad and very rude. But being forgotten is just, hmm, just sad. I’ve been ignored many times in my life. Sometimes by the people closest to me for months even years. Sometimes it’s only the store clerk for a few minutes. But in those times I know I was not forgotten.
I got dressed, accepted their apologies and drove home. I would have preferred to keep on driving until I reached the end of the road at the beginning of the big Pacific Ocean, but I was too angry. Anger increasing with every item I added to my complaint list. Yelling and crying out to God, I demanded to know why He has left me in His waiting room? Why have I been forgotten? I’ve been obedient to Your instructions. I’m waiting for my release!
By the time I made it home I was really worked up into a tizzy. I stomped into the bedroom ready to explode upon Jim. Standing at the end of the bed I started and with every sentence I punctuated it by taking off some item and throwing it at the bed nearly missing his head. First, the car keys zoomed toward him. Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to throw them at you. Then, my sunglasses, again at his head. Really, I’m so sorry! I managed to redirect my aim away from Jim and continued until nothing was touching my skin – no clothes, no jewelry, not even my wedding ring – absolutely nothing. Then I jumped into bed, covered up my head and curled up into a fetal position. I emerged eventually.
Once again I find myself in God’s waiting room, but I know that I’ve not been forgotten. Though I do at times jump in bed and cover up my head because I’ve become overwhelmed with my complaint list. When the bad moment becomes a hard week becomes a depressing month becomes a sorrowful season becomes a pitiful life that’s when I say to myself “Stop!” and I work backwards until I get back to the moment. I can handle a moment and let God handle my life.
I’ve realized that since Jim’s passing when I have had several bad moments closely grouped together I was just in front of something miraculous – purchasing my townhome when I feared I would be homeless and living in someone’s back bedroom (The sale was presented to me. I didn’t seek it out), having a dear friend live with me for a few months during the melancholy holiday season (I did practically beg her to come), and having been found for a unique job I truly enjoy. (I didn’t find it. It found me.)
And so I must be right in front of another miracle because I confess the bad moments are many and near between – in the mornings, in the evenings, on the way to work, on the way home from work, on the weekends, after church.
This is a moment where normally I would be crying, but instead I’m laughing. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps I’m a little crazy?
Or perhaps it’s the realization and remembrance deep down that I know that I know that I have not been forgotten by God. I’ll get through these moments and He’ll get me through this life. Not only that He will bring me into something great and miraculous. Just wait.