by Pam Tinsley

We decided to wait. I’m so glad that we did. We were at an assisted living residence to break bread together – communion. And it seemed as though one thing after another was trying to prevent it from happening. First Michael, who had arranged for our worship space – for the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels – was delayed. Somehow his electric wheelchair managed to get wedged against a table leg. We had to wait for help.

Then, a familiar face greeted me in the library. A familiar face in an unexpected location. Hillary from Seattle was now in our local assisted living residence! And Doris was there, too! It was a joy to see Doris after, what, at least six years!

But where was Don? Michael had invited him. Both Hillary and Doris knew that he had planned to join us. So, Hillary went to search for him.

So, of course, we waited! When Don finally arrived, he was beaming! I hadn’t seen Don since before the pandemic. Between the pandemic and his immobility, he’d been unable to physically worship in church for years.

And then, when I ran into Don’s son several days later, he said to me, “Dad called me after your visit and exclaimed, ‘Guess who I saw this week!!’”

All of this reminded me of how important it is to take time to nurture my relationships by spending time with others. Yes, sharing communion together was sacred. But so, too, was our time of fellowship.

And it happened because we waited. We waited for Don, and who knew how much it had meant to him to receive communion with this little group? Who knew what it had meant to him to reconnect – if ever so briefly – with me? Don, who welcomed my family and me so warmly and enthusiastically so many years ago when we found our way to his parish. Don, who would receive his heavenly reward only twelve days later.

All because we waited.

As we approach the season of Advent, how might you embrace waiting as a spiritual practice?