Wednesday October 19th

A Wednesday blessed with bright sunshine and heavy showers; after a very pleasant evening out last night with friends (and I did after all meet my friend for an afternoon walk together), today feels good and hopeful. I found myself this morning reflecting on the stature of waiting, and on stillness, awareness and vision. A Syrian mystic wrote (7th Century), "The entire way of the life of stillness is interwoven with the following three virtues: with faith that comes from listening, and with hope and with love, out of which real faith is made known."

There is a worldly way of waiting that is demanding and impatient, that unsettles and discomfits those around us, and that aims to jostle for attention (and, sadly, we all do it). Faithful waiting on God needs to be very different: we are called to wait in stillness, called to an expectant waiting that recognizes and understands that our needs are already known, that the place for us is prepared, that there is already healing and forgiveness for our hurts and pains and sins.

Well, I have spent long enough waiting impatiently, waiting like the child who, told to wait while this or that task is completed by mum or dad, does so sulkily, moaning and fidgeting, and cross at not being the centre of attention. I remember, incidentally, a previous Bishop of Lichfield telling us (perhaps in his farewell sermon) that the children he had known in Africa would, if told to wait, simply do so - silently, uncomplainingly and with a serene stillness. I can't help but wonder whether that would still be the case today: everywhere, even in Africa, our attention span is getting shorter, everywhere, we are becoming less able to accept things as they are rather than wanting it all on a plate straight away, everywhere we get bored so quickly.

So if we have to wait, let's learn to wait well. Of course, there may be tasks for us to do while we are waiting; there are often ways in which we can be useful, ways in which we can care, things we can offer one another. I'm sure that's true for me now, and I know I need to make the most of the opportunities I have. But that expectant stillness of heart is something to be aimed for, worked on, prayed into, so God is able to do in and through me (as through you, as through all of us together) those new things that are his will and desire.