You know what I hate about waiting rooms? SICK PEOPLE, everywhere. We are forced to sit in a room with tons of people with hundreds of different ailments, all breathing in the same air. Call me a germaphobe if you will, but nothing makes me feel more anxious than breathing in the same air that my kind neighbor, in the seat next to me, has just coughed and blown their nose into.

And while we are on the topic of waiting rooms, lets discuss the amount of time you are asked to sit and wait. No one likes to sit and wait. Especially when you, yourself have ailments that you need to be seen for.

We want answers. We want explanations. We want to know that what we are experiencing is normal or treatable. We desperately want to be fixed. And the waiting room? We are sent there to sit and wait and ponder over said things. Worst cast scenarios playback in our minds like an old movie projector.

To be fair, some waiting rooms are in the hopes of good news: News of a new baby! News of Cancer free! News of clear scans!

It is amazing to me that the "waiting room" has so much power. This one room that can change at any moment. Whether it be the news of a healthy baby, or the news of a miscarriage. We cannot escape the room. It is where we wait and where we hope. It is the bearer of the next moment. And these "moments" are what make up our entire life.

So what does that make this world? A big giant WAITING ROOM. If you are a follower of christ, you know and believe that Jesus will return one day and make all things right again. We know where our eternity is. We know and believe that this world is not our home. In the meantime, we are here: waiting, hoping, pleading, rejoicing, mourning and everything in between.

My church recently just put on our 2nd annual evening of music and art celebrating the glory and mystery of Advent, called Wintersong. It is truly such a magical night. I'm so grateful to be apart of a church that values the artist and the way Jesus uses their talents to glorify His name.

@malmeiz doing a live painting during Wintersong. Captured by _samanthacmoore

We asked artists around the city to create a piece that symbolized the idea of waiting/hoping to them. Words cannot articulate how beautiful it was to see each piece as it hung around the room as each artist explained what this season of waiting and hoping meant to them.

One of the most magical parts of the night was the release of our Church's, Tates Creek Presbyterian Downtown, new album created and performed by our worship leader, Justin Carlson and several other insanely talented people in our church. The music album is called "Wait / Hope" and it is exactly that. Lovingly referred to as "The psalms project," this piece of art walks through several of the psalms as we cry out in the waiting room of this life.

You know what the best part is? Donations are received with grateful hearts, but it is free. For you. You can download it here:

WAIT / HOPE

Looking to get a hard copy? Please email Justin at Justin at jcarlson@tcpca.org . He'll be expecting your email!

I don't think i've listened to anything else since I got the CD in my hands. It is so life giving. Last Wednesday at Wintersong, our church got to perform each song. The night was filled with anticipation as we sang our way through the psalms that echoed our God's steadfast love and never failing goodness. I even had the opportunity to write a prayer for the evening. I also had the chance to write one last year as well that you can find HERE.

But as I sat down to pray and write out my thoughts to prepare, I could not stop crying. Honestly, because this idea of waiting and hoping as rung me out the past couple of years. After walking through miscarriage, the death of my dear friend, family issues, health issues, comparison, anxiety, the tolls of social media, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do with my life, I sat down and felt my heart go wild. I couldn't focus my heart and I just felt overwhelmed. Isn't that just like a Waiting Room?

It is Advent and of course there is a beauty and hope in the air as we celebrate the beginning of Jesus' great rescue plan. But along with the beauty and mystery, there is weariness. Because, well, we just aren't there yet. Heaven is near but not here yet. We still experience death, heart ache, weariness, failures. So what do we do with that? What do we do in the waiting? Lay down and wait for it to be over? No. Our God is bigger than that. Our God is near, and our God is here. Therefore we do not lose heart.

And as I began to pray and write, it flooded out like busted dam. The following prayer is what poured out in my most vulnerable state. My waiting room put into words. I pray that as you read, and as you are walking in your own waiting rooms, that you would feel your heavenly father draw near. Because dear one, He IS here. In the mess. In the chair next to you. He has never left you and He never will. We may be in the valley (psalm 23), but His steadfast love is filling your gaps. As we continue in the season in Advent, let us never stop Hoping. Because light always, always, always, overwhelms the dark.

"A prayer in the valley"

My heart is waging a war that is spinning me into a heap on the floor. But as the debris flies, I feel your steady hands grab my shoulders and focus my eyes. And all at once I feel you still this storm inside my heart. Oh God, you are staring so deep into my eyes that my heart stands at attention. I feel your flood of peace wash down my head, my spine, my fingers, my toes. It’s as if you are you climbing into my heart with your sword held high, like the King that you are, yelling “she is MINE!”

And life is shocked back into me as I gasp for air and feel you holding me. Oh Father, with every beat of my weary heart, I feel you pressing your words, “be still” into my breath:

Do you not know that I am your God?

Do you not know that I am the one who loves you? Who fights for you?

Do you not know my cross and my victory?

I have made you and I have carried you.

I have sustained you.

I have rescued you.

You are Mine.

In the dark of the night under the blanket of my stars, my light, I came.

Child, I am HERE.

Oh God with every word I feel you stripping off layer after layer, chain after chain and I am bare. I am exposed yet covered by you gently reminding me that YOU are in control. Not me.

My heart begins to warm with your light and I know full well who you are. Oh God would you never stop reminding me? When my heart becomes hijacked, would you come back in and claim it again? Claim this heart Lord. It is yours. My past, my now, my hope: all yours.

My hope is in you, my king. And I will dwell here as I wait in the valley. Not one thing is wasted with you, not even in the waiting.

I will stand here as you cup my face and steady my focus. Do the waves and the wind not buckle under your voice? Are you not the one holding my frame?

Be still. Be still. Be still

I feel it pounding in my chest. Oh father, you have come, you have rescued; you have NEVER left me. Thank you. Can I just linger here tonight as I feel your hands cover me with your unfailing love and wash me with your abounding grace?

Be still, my heart. My Jesus is here. Oh Father you are here.