The waiting, the now . . .

It's the waiting that gets me.
Always the waiting,

never the now,

longing for change, but

change comes in the later.

The past seems to hold regrets

or nostalgia

that trumps anything remotely real and present.

It’s the waiting that claims me,

disatisfied but hoping, but

hope comes tomorrow.

The promise of future

trumps the eyes wide open in the now.

As I have received, I must walk,

rooted–set down, dug in,

grounded–growing, firm, solid,

built up, not torn down

in each now,

each moment,

each faith-step,

rooted and grounded, built up in You.

Let the waiting wait–

I will set my weak self in You.