Hurry Up and Wait

   "The calm before the storm..." is an old figure of speech referring to those few moments of down time just before some big event is going to occur.  My father used to say that the military's version of this concept was expressed as "Hurry up and wait."  Consider a bride waiting for her wedding party to get down the aisle before she is escorted to the front of the church or a basketball team in the locker room just before charging out on to the floor for a big game or a speaker at a big rally just prior to walking on to the stage.  Each of these situations produces a few moments of poignant solitude, a time of transition that is accompanied by a very loud and impatient silence.
   I have worked hard this summer at getting better so that I can return to my life as a teacher. Sometimes that meant just resting or taking a slow walk all the way to the neighbor's driveway, but it was work.  I was soon able to drive my truck without adult supervision.  I found my own way to school to get my classroom ready for the new school year.  Then came the good news that I was actually allowed to start the year with my students.  It seems I have been busy getting ready for this new school year ever since I was diagnosed with lymphoma back in November.  That high-alert mentality intensified this week with association meetings on Tuesday and Wednesday, then a school staff meeting yesterday and an Open House event for students and their families last night.  School begins on Monday morning.  I am ready.
   But now I have today. I went to school for a while this morning, but my time spent there was not all that fruitful and I found myself focusing on extraneous things.  I am ready.  I met many of my students last night and some claim they like vacation too much and don't want to come back to school which makes me all the more challenged to provide a great year for them.  I am ready.  My health is good, my attitude is positive, my excitement is high, my idealism is overflowing.  I am ready.  The bulletin boards are set, the chairs are positioned, the room looks great, the lesson plans are set (well, for the first few days at least -- I never liked writing detailed lesson plans anyway).  I am ready.  And now I sit in the calm before the onslaught of a new school year.
   Calm is good.  One lesson I learned through my cancer experience is that I cannot always be doing.  There must be times of waiting.  After the pain and discomfort and nausea had subsided, cancer offered long periods of forced relaxation.  That time allowed me to get stronger.  I did not always appreciate those times, but waiting was what I needed to do.  Now I am almost there.  I just have a couple more days to wait.  Strength can be gained in the waiting.  Find those moments of calm and learn to appreciate them.  "But those who wait upon the Lord will renew their strength.  They shall mount up on wings like eagles..." (Isaiah 40:31).