by Joel L, Western Australia
So there I was, sitting in God’s waiting room. It’s a comfortable enough place with lots of people and their children waiting around. There was a big door with the word ‘God’ written on it, with everyone looking, waiting for God to open it.
I looked over and saw Moshe; he’s been waiting for thousands of years and is excited for the chance to see God for the first time. Abdulla has also been waiting a while and is sitting next to Moshe; there is an obvious tension between the two. Bodhi is also there and looking peaceful, if not a bit distracted by an ant, wondering if it’s someone he knew. Finally there’s Chris, who seems to have a quiet confidence that he and his kids will be seen first.
Moshe’s kids are a pretty driven bunch and seem to have a bit of a chip on their shoulder. Abdulla has some troublesome sons who appear to be pretty angry with each other and everyone else – and Bodhi’s kids seem quiet… too quiet. As for Chris, he seems to have lots and lots of kids running around, all doing different things to vie for his attention. None of them looked particularly joyful, healthy or happy, but all of them were determined not to give up their place in the waiting room (you’ve got to have faith, you see).
From time to time they get frustrated with the length of the wait and they blame each other for cutting in or making it harder for them while they wait, but generally they prefer not to comment on the behaviour of each other’s children, lest it reflect back on their own children.
I looked around for something to read (as you do in waiting rooms) and found everyone had their own rule books on how to wait best. They also seemed to have their own ideas as to what would happen once God arrived.
It seemed crazy that they didn’t help each other. After all, they were all in the same place, they were all waiting for the same thing, they all had similar troubles, worries and hopes for their children.
I tried waiting with them for a few centuries but recently started wondering if there was another way. It was only then that I noticed a man walking in and out of the door with ease. I asked the others about him and they all looked away, outraged at his lack of respect for the time they had waited. Others attacked this man’s suggestions that it could be as simple as taking responsibility for yourself and just getting up and walking through. He wasn’t looking for followers, but others saw sense in his words and also started to walk in and out of the door… this got my attention.
A couple of times I stood up – each time I got harsh glares from around the room, so I sat back down and waited a bit longer. Eventually I could wait no more… I stood up and walked though the door. I felt joy, I felt sorrow for having waited so long, and I heard the simplest and most welcoming words: “I’ve been waiting for you”.