The waiting is the hardest part. (Tom Petty)
Man, I hate this.
My EC is asleep in the next room. Not so much as asleep as unconscious – sedated. Nothing major! Just a quick procedure (Nunya business), and we should be on our way later today.
Man, I hate waiting rooms. I have spent a lot of time in waiting rooms over the course of my life. Most of the time, things turn out great, and life resumes its normal, frantic pace.
Most of the time.
There are those times when they don’t, and for unexpected and inexplicable reasons, things go wrong. Everyone I know (myself included) has shed tears in a waiting room, and that sits in the back of my mind like a tiny dark cloud.
I’m not frightened, or making a big deal out of my concern, but the process itself does not inspire confidence. As is always required, the intake procedure ensures that those dark cloud thoughts get acknowledged. Living wills, DNR orders, acknowledgment of risks have to be discussed, and forms signed. No matter how confident or casually you arrive, letting doubt and fear rear their heads is an unavoidable part of the process.
I believe that some of the greatest collisions between faith and fear that we experience occur in quiet waiting rooms.
Thankfully, we are entitled to gifts of the Spirit to bolster our faith: the presence of the peaceful calming influence, and the reassurance that can come from priesthood blessings.
And of course, the ultimate long-term fear antidote: the sealing power of the priesthood binding us eternally. I can’t imagine navigating the worrisome events that our mortality guarantees will come without that reassurance and testimony.
So, as reminded by Elder Neil L. Anderson, “Faith is not a feeling, it is a decision,” I have decided on faith. I will spend this short time in this waiting room planning on what I will do to take care of my sweetheart this afternoon, rather than wondering what I would ever do without her.
UPDATE: All is well, all is well.