On a May evening when I was twelve years old, a phone call prompted my parents to usher my younger sister and me out the door for a two-hour drive. My older sister was at full term expecting her second child, and had gone to the hospital in labor. We arrived there, too, and we waited. I went in to talk with my sister as she lay in the hospital bed. I went out to the waiting room again. More family arrived. More waiting. I think I slept.
At last, a door opened and a thrill came over the family-filled room; the baby was here! Yet more waiting followed that news. I waited while nurses performed various standard checks and procedures. I waited while the grandparents held her. I waited while other relatives older than me held her. It felt like I waited while everybody else in the whole world held that little one.
Two of my greatest desires in this life are for purpose and peace.
While there is magnificent purpose in living in the imago Dei, there are earthly obstacles. There’s friction along the path of glorifying God and enjoying Him. I feel I will never be able to do so wholeheartedly, with no reservations, no hesitations, until I’m somewhere else. Somewhere Other.