The Ballestero Blog

The Drama Of The Waiting Room

The Waiting Room was full of desperate people. Another shift change brought in a new face behind the desk, but that was the only thing different.

An older woman sat by herself in a corner, observing the actions of some of those around her. She even attempted to guess what had brought them to this place.

A few were in so much pain, that they couldn’t stop the tears from running down their cheeks. Her heart went out to them. She knew the only help she could give them was words, and they needed much more than that.

One of the newest additions to the Waiting Room was a young mom. She nervously paced back and forth. Her face seemed tortured and filled with anxiety. She showed no interest in sitting down. Her lips moved, as she prayed silently while pacing the floor.

Occasionally, she would walk by the clipboard that held the sign-in sheet, as if to see how close her name was from being called. She frowned ever time she looked at it.

When the Attendant occasionally opened the door and picked up the clipboard to call the next name on the list, all conversations stopped, and every ear listened for the sound of their name. The wait seemed like forever.

Some of the people in the room had dried blood on their clothes. A few had addictions, many were diseased, and a number of them had been in an accident of some kind. One or two had limped in with the help of others, but most came alone.

“What are you here for, my dear?”  The older lady asked the young mother.

“I have a sick baby that the doctors can’t find a cure for,” was her answer. Her face showed deep worry and pain.

“You poor dear, it hurts so bad to see our babies suffer,” the grandmother said as she shook her gray head, feeling the pain.

“What are you waiting for?” The younger woman asked.

“My husband,” she said, with a hopeful smile on her face.

The young mother looked around the room again at the huge cross-section of people. She could tell that most of them had been there awhile.

“What is wrong with this place? Why does it take so long to get help here?”

The grandma just smiled faintly and slightly shrugged her shoulders. Then she turned and looked into the eyes of the young mom, and asked, “How long have you been waiting?”

“Eighteen months, two days and eleven hours,” she said glancing at her watch. “What about you?’ She continued.

“I’ve been here thirty-six years, this November,” the grandma said still smiling.

“Oh my word,” the young mom said as she sat down. “You’ve been waiting in here for more years than I am old. That’s an unbelievable long time. Are you able to talk to the Physician at all? Does he ever say anything to you?“

“I talk to him everyday. He is the best there is, and he tells me he’ll let me know as soon as he’s finished.”

“What’s wrong with your husband?”

“He backslid thirty-six ago. God is working on him, so I’m just sitting in this Waiting Room till my husband can pray back through.”

Tears ran down both of their faces.

“My dear,” the grandma said as she observed that no one was monitoring the check-in list, “please bring me that clipboard over there, I want to show you something.”

The young woman obediently brought the clipboard over to the grandmother and sat down beside her. They both looked at the list of names.

The older woman began to flip the pages back. She flipped them all the way back to the first page, and then began to call out random names, with dates and times.

“Here on Page One, it shows that Abraham was promised a son, and he waited here in this room for twenty-five years before Isaac was born.

“On Page Two, it shows that Joseph had to wait twenty years before his dreams came true and he got to sit on the throne of Egypt.

“Umm, on Page Three, Moses spent forty years in the Wilderness part of the Waiting Room, just killing time before God could use him.

“Page Twelve shows that David waited almost fifteen years after he was anointed king, before he was allowed to ascend the throne.

“Page Twenty shows there was some guy that waited thirty-eight years in the Pool of Siloam Section of the Waiting Room before he got his miracle.”

The younger woman took the clipboard in her hands and leaned back into her chair while she read down the long list of names.

“According to this log,” she said, “not very many get discharged the same day they come. The good news that I see here, is that the Doctor has an amazing success rate. I am not really in love with the idea of waiting, but I don’t plan to leave here until my baby gets well.”

The grandma slipped her arm around the young woman to comfort her. At about the same time they both looked up at two of the signs on the wall.

Their faces were filled with hope anew, as they bravely faced their future in the God’s Waiting Room!