Waiting. Wandering. Wondering.
Waiting. Wandering. Wondering.
All words by Tanner Olson
The invitation to speak with God remains open.
An open hand outstretched to sit and be with the giver of grace.
There isn’t a wrong way to pray.
Or so I don’t think.
Praying is less like math and more like art.
Like poetry.
He isn’t grading us or checking our work.
He’s listening.
He’s taking it in.
He’s admiring.
The way we interact with art.
This poem is an honest exhale as we wait, wander, and wonder.
And I know He hears me, but sometimes I wonder if He hears me.
He does.
But I wonder if He hears me.
He hears me.
.. .. ..
I’m beginning to wonder if You can hear me.
I’ve whispered and yelled and sat silent and everything in-between.
I’ve flipped flopped my thumbs, left over right, right over left,
thinking maybe if my hands were folded the right way You’d hear what I’ve been trying to say.
I’ve closed my eyes and thought so tight
I could feel the veins in my face become visible.
I’ve confessed at stop lights,
cried out in the middle of sleepless nights,
and have wrestled spite with all my might.
And nothing feels quite right.
Like it says, I’ve prayed without ceasing
and my hands are sore from releasing.
Or at least they’ve tried.
If my thoughts are prayers, I cannot stop praying.
I’ve been wandering around in the waiting
Hopefully anticipating, but I’m still here wondering.
And waiting.
And hopefully anticipating for Your answer to arrive.
Except for the other day.
We didn’t talk or at least I didn’t talk to You.
I didn’t want to.
It wasn’t because I was angry, although I was.
And You knew that.
And it wasn’t because I was worried, although I was.
And You knew that, too.
I was scared.
I am scared.
Scared of the potential what if
and what now,
the constant questioning of
why and how.
Terrified of deconstructing dreams and resetting reality.
Fearful of failing to be faithful through the fire.
And I am tired.
Life was much easier when I was a young boy,
but now that I’m older I’m struggling to see through
the pain and uncertainty with hope and joy.
But through it all, somehow, some way
You are working beauty together with my waiting.
Intertwining peace with patience; time with grace.
Sitting by my side in this unsettled space.
Today I pray, as I wait and wonder that’ll You keep me from going under.
May I remain hopeful.
May I remain patient.
May I remain ready.
And may You give me the faith to wait and wonder.
Your way is for the better even if it’s taking forever.
With hope,
Tanner