Reading: James 5:7
Be patient, then, brothers and sisters, until the Lordʼs coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop, patiently waiting for the autumn and spring rains.
It’s a cold, wet morning – looks like the sky has settled on gun-metal gray. The bright, striped waiting room offers a stark contrast to the people who have gathered here. An old gentleman flips through an outdated magazine. His wife clutches an overstuffed medical folder. It looks as though her days are numbered. I wonder how many waiting rooms they have seen this year.
A little girl has that feverish look that guarantees a few days off from school. She takes a few slurps from the water fountain, and shuffles over to sit next to me. Mom is hammering away on her cell phone. The kid’s flu has thrown a big wrench into her real estate business. The receptionist greets everyone with the same cold disinterest. Paperwork seems to have taken priority over people-work.
An inner door opens, but nobody calls my name. The little girl lets go with three gale-force sneezes. I decide to hold my breath for two minutes. I’d rather be having a picnic lunch at Chernobyl. Oh, I wish I were somewhere else – anywhere but here.
Patience is surely an unwanted virtue, but I’ll wait a little longer. It took me three full days to develop this fever. I guess it’s worth an hour or two to try to find a cure.
Reposted with permission from onehope.net.