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Jan-02-2011 18:07printcomments

Waiting Room

Rome wasn’t built or destroyed in a day...

The chairs in God's Waiting Room on Your Way to Heaven are Quite Comfortable
'The chairs in God's Waiting Room on Your Way to Heaven are Quite Comfortable' Courtesy: Flickr

(CLEVELAND) - Where is God in all of this mess I’m going through? Probably the same place He was when Moses was in the wilderness or while David was on the run first from Saul, then his own son.

How about where was God when John was beheaded or while Christ was nailed to the Cross? We always question where is God in the tough times but never in the good ones. Well, God is where He always is so the question should be where are we in all this mess?

Are you praying for forgiveness holding a grudge? Upset because someone has not returned something borrowed that you stole in the first place? Mad as hell that you didn’t get promoted but connived your way into the present position. Maybe you have done nothing wrong okay, so what’s taking so long? Before a caterpillar becomes a butterfly it must first break out of its cocoon.

However, only through the struggle will the metamorphosis take place. Should you help it break free it will never fly because going through the process is what makes it strong enough to fly in the first place. Don’t blame God asking where He is. Ask yourself, where am I?

Rome wasn’t built or destroyed in a day. Even Abraham had to wait 25 years for the promised birth of his son Isaac.


Waiting Room

Modernization? Living in an era of lickity-split,
Where nobody expects to wait even a little bit,
High speed Internet, drive through, oil change,
And I know there are many, many other names.

Soon as something happens we can’t wait to tell,
No longer by rotary dial, pager but the latest cell,
Direct TV, Dish Network or cable and even DVR,
Whatever, whenever, information is never too far.

Imagine, then again probably impossible to do,
Try to remember how many had to wait on you,
Because, although it didn’t look like you moved,
In the end their trust and confidence was proved.

Your due diligence in preparation came through,
As it was no surprise to those who already knew,
Beforehand since they had dealt with you before,
So, they began to recommend you more & more.

After Samuel anointed David to wear the crown,
It was 13-15 years the King had to wait around,
Where for Caleb the promise took 45 long years,
40 of them due to 10 leaders who walked in fear.

Moses was not in the wilderness once but twice,
We could surmise the experience would suffice,
Exactly enough to follow God’s given command,
Yet, angered he failed to enter the Promise Land.

Discouragement can’t assume the dominant role,
Fear by what you see? Stand by what you know,
The old conventional oven or a new microwave?
Uh, didn’t the former work fine back in the day?

Mechanics, doctors, dentists, never see you soon,
Your appointment at nine has now become noon,
Any seed planted must have roots prior to bloom,
Don’t be upset when God has a, “Waiting Room.”

By Luke Easter


Luke Easter is a poet who writes about things that are very close to the heart of Another former U.S. Marine, Luke heals the world with an approach that reaches people on a different level, one known for centuries, yet too often forgotten in the one we live in.

We live in a world of social & economic injustice. The main reason for founding America in the first place was to relieve the oppression of the King of England. Patrick Henry said it best, “give me liberty or give me death.” And yet, all too often death seems to be the only way out. Why is there such a high suicide rate especially among teens, in the land of the free & the home of the brave? What makes headlines? Good news? Ha! More depressing stories than anything else. I feel poetry takes an edge off the hurt of bad news while still delivering it but in a, “glitzy” sort of way. Giving a different perspective. Kind of like slap in the face as opposed to a knife in the back. At least with the slap you’ll live to see another day and you will know whom it’s from. I wasn’t here for the beginning of the world but at 59, I just might be here for the end.

Even though it’s still a knife, rhyme poetry helps to dull the blade. And that’s my job. You can write to Luke Easter at:

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