Tag Archives: waiting

The Tale of the Forgotten Carrots

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I am inordinately pleased with myself right now.

At the beginning of the summer I planted carrot seeds in a small planter box on my deck. I watched them sprout and grow and felt pretty good about myself and what had come from my seeds, but… then I kind of forgot about the carrots. Occasionally the dog would stick her snout in the planter box and go grazing and pull a carrot out for herself. Scott transplanted some of the sprouts to his garden when his own carrots weren’t doing so well – and my carrot seedlings did really well for him. But. Yeah. I got caught up in other things and, for the most part, the carrots just sat in their box of dirt. Patient. Waiting. Trusting.

And today I finally remembered them! I went out to the planter box and dug around and found a bunch of little carrots – still healthy and edible. I brought them inside, washed them off, and turned them into (drum roll) CARROT CAKE! (I used some apple sauce Scotty had made from his Gravensteins, too – we’re living off the land, baby!)
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

As I Waited for Them

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They came home last night.
I was standing under the stars
as I waited for them – looking
up at the vast serene forever,
feeling Mom and Dad smiling
with me – and the car pulled up
into the driveway. I was hidden
in the darkness at first and they
didn’t see me – then – “Have you
been waiting for us?” – and hugs
and laughter and so glad you’re
home – gently emerging into the
here and now – and a paperclip
– Mom’s special signal to me –
in the driveway. I pick it up and put
it in my pocket. I will add it to my
paperclip collection once I’m inside.
All together again.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

“O Life Divine, That Owns Each Waiting Hour”

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I went for a drive – Scott had the news on and I felt the need to go into my mental “closet” and bring my thoughts close to the presence of Love. I pulled over to watch Mount Baker turn pink in the setting sun and a song from the Christian Science Hymnal came to me – “O Gentle Presence” (with words by Mary Baker Eddy). Here’s a link to my off-the-cuff rendition. Acapella here. No accompaniment. No back-up singers who can do the actual singing for me. 🙂 Just me. Probably off-key. No embellishment or anything. Thank you ahead of time for your kindness.

This line from “O Gentle Presence” especially resonates with me right now – “O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour” – I mean…think about that! God – Life, Truth, and Love – owns, manages, and governs EVERY hour – even the “waiting” ones. There is never a moment outside of Love’s control – never a moment not created by God. Those moments when we’re waiting to learn our loved ones are safe, when we’re waiting to hear the prognosis, when we’re waiting for the plane to land, or the tests to come back, or the quarantine to be lifted – God owns even THOSE moments. Whoah.
– Karen

 

Here are the lyrics to “O Gentle Presence”:

O gentle presence, peace and joy and power;
O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour,
Thou Love that guards the nestling’s faltering flight!
Keep Thou my child on upward wing to-night.
Love is our refuge; only with mine eye
Can I behold the snare, the pit, the fall:
His habitation high is here, and nigh,
His arm encircles me, and mine, and all.
O make me glad for every scalding tear,
For hope deferred, ingratitude, disdain!
Wait, and love more for every hate, and fear
No ill, — since God is good, and loss is gain.
Beneath the shadow of His mighty wing;
In that sweet secret of the narrow way,
Seeking and finding, with the angels sing:
“Lo, I am with you alway,” — watch and pray.
No snare, no fowler, pestilence or pain;
No night drops down upon the troubled breast,
When heaven’s aftersmile earth’s tear-drops gain,
And mother finds her home and heavenly rest.
– by Mary Baker Eddy

 

 

Kinship in a Grin and a Nod

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A runner jogged up the boardwalk
from the other direction and got caught
behind three laughing young women
and a dog stretched to the end of his leash
across the width of the boardwalk, oblivious 
to the runner behind them, and oblivious
to me in front of them. The runner stopped
and waited and caught my eye and smiled
and I smiled back as I halted for the trio
and their dog to move past me. Then when
we were both finally able to move again,
the runner and I acknowledged our kinship
with a grin and a nod, and continued on
our respective journeys along the boardwalk
in the sunshine on a sunny autumn day.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

What are you waiting for?

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This thought came to me this morning – and I think there actually might be something profound in it – but I ain’t sure. I guess I’ll post it and then think about it some more. If any of you has any thoughts you’d care to share about “waiting” – I’d be most appreciative.

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