waiting

On Waiting

On Waiting

My toddler is screaming, so it must be Tuesday. His face is scrunched, anger etching hard lines onto his normally round face. His complexion flushes red as he hisses out a frustrated, “No,” through clenched teeth. 

It isn’t a refusal to acquiesce to my request. Quite the opposite: his is a refusal to accept my refusal. 

Except, I haven’t said, “No.” What I said was, “Not right now.”

The Eucharist and the Beauty of Waiting

The Eucharist and the Beauty of Waiting

I’ve never been one to wait idly. I’m methodical in my approach—thinking, researching, planning, and praying are all part of my process. But once I’ve made a decision, I’m eager to act on it. This was especially true when I decided to become part of the Catholic Church.

I kept calling to mind Harry’s line from “When Harry Met Sally”: “Once you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

That’s how I felt about receiving Jesus in the Eucharist. I wanted it — Him — immediately.

Wailing for Waffles

Wailing for Waffles

My one-year-old eats a waffle for breakfast every morning. Despite that I have never failed to feed him, he inevitably wails for the entire two minutes it takes to pop up from the toaster. I sing and dance, trying to distract him. I explain that the waffle needs to cook. Nothing helps; the waiting is too painful.

God Works in the Waiting

God Works in the Waiting

I am not a person who waits. I take my time to think, to research, to plan and to pray. But once I reach a decision, I do not like to delay execution. When I made the decision to enter the Catholic Church, I did not want to wait. The image I have of my excitement is Harry’s line at the end of When Harry Met Sally: “Once you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” I wanted to receive Jesus in the Eucharist as soon as possible.