Waiting in Line.

When I was in grad school studying to be a therapist, we had a saying that the answer to any Marriage and Family question was “both/and.” Unsure of the answer to an exam question? Fall to the back-up, answer “both/and” and you were guaranteed to pass. While there was jest among us, we were also wrestling with a complex truth. In the world of therapy, there is a little room for black and white thinking. People are not so clearly defined. There are not simple solutions to life’s problems. After all, if there was such a quick fix or simple solution then there would be no need for therapists. Instead, there is a myriad of resistances, narratives, and personal histories that keep us in the place of doing what we do not want to do and not doing what we desire to do. We enter into counsel (whether that is formal therapy or coffee with a trusted friend) to help uncover our blind spots; to know more about the roadblocks that stand in the way of our hopes, dreams, and true desires. We enter into the world of complexity where simple advice, while good and true, is not quite enough to free us from our chains and propel us to perfection.

This past week, I have been picturing myself waiting in line – a fun line, like the winding path leading up to “The Beast” at King’s Island. For those unfamiliar with “The Beast”, it is an amazing wooden roller-coaster (and my personal favorite ride.) On a side note, the first time I rode “The Beast” was with my late grandmother – I was twelve, she was seventy. It was her first roller coaster ride, and a memory that will forever be etched into my mind as simply wonderful. Now back to the point.

Waiting in line is an uncomfortable place to be, at least for me. I grow anxious in the anticipation. Fearful of what lies ahead of me. Impatient at the slow pace, inching my way forward tiny little baby steps at a time. There are moments of standing still and wondering if something is wrong, if the ride is broken, or if I will ever get my turn. And then that rush of excitement when the line suddenly moves forward several hundred feet. And of course that last wave of nausea when I am next in line. The space within the line is complex. My emotions roller coaster as much, if not more than, the ride itself.

And I start to think, the line is that “both/and” space of the spiritual journey. I have arrived, but I am still journeying toward. I believe, but Lord, help my unbelief. I Know with a capital “K”, but I do not know. I wonder if this waiting is worth it; or worse, in the moments when the pace has seemingly stopped, I worry if I am even in the right line. My anxiety suddenly clouds my ability to trust.

At times when I voice this to others I become even more frustrated with the quick answers and advice that come my way. Frustrated may be an understatement.  Outraged is probably more accurate.  My honesty seems to be met with harsh judgment.  But, faith is both simple and complex. It is my experience that belief and doubt coexist – that neither can be ignored. Doubt becomes the struggle which strengthens the faith. Faith becomes the hound dog that never stops hunting the doubter. Its dance is full of complexities.

This leads to the question, do we have room for the both/and of our faith life? Do we allow space to struggle and wrestle with the complexities in our own lives or that in our neighbor? Can we tolerate and welcome the myriad of emotions that come with waiting in the long line of earthly life?

It seems easier to resort to black and white thinking. Too easy to enter into a state of self-righteousness and separate the sheep from the goats prematurely. Too easy label those who are saved and those who are damned. Too easy to see ourselves at the finish rather than still in the line.