Thanks for Holding

My flight home was cancelled two hours before departure. Longing to be back at home, I called the airline within minutes of receiving the text informing me about the changed flight.

“Agent. Agent,” I repeated, simply wanting to talk with a human – anyone who could help me get on the next available flight as quickly and seamlessly as possible, but my demanding voice fell on computerized ears, and within moments, the holding music debuted and every once in a while was interrupted with, “Thanks for holding. We’re sorry for the wait…”

As I paced the backyard of a friend’s house, I noted how loud the “hold” music seemed. Annoying was the word that came to mind. This is just so annoying. I waited 10 minutes, 15 minutes…

Putting it on speaker, I stuck the phone in my jeans while the hold music sang through my back pocket. I paced more, this time noting a few of the lovely features in this small, quaint backyard. Soaking in the afternoon sun, the hold music slightly dissipated.

I returned to the screened-in porch, brought the phone closer to my ear, and the holding song crescendoed. I felt a sense of panic as my mind reeled with details due to the inconvenience of redirected plans. The music carried on with its redundant dancing tune which signified: you’re still holding.

 The waiting was incredibly annoying.  

After an hour, I debated silencing the tune but frustration gave way to stubbornness, and I kept the song ringing out while adjusting plans in order to stay an extra night. With no immediate responsibilities, my friends suggested we make our way to a local coffee shop.

With one ear bud in, the music became mere background noise as we tasted the baker’s famous chocolate-chip cookie and sipped warm, vanilla lattes. The cookie was heaven, and the company was even sweeter, unexpected, delightful. Every-once-in-a-while, the tune in my ear caught my attention and reminded me: you’re still holding.

But the waiting seemed almost refreshing.  

These unplanned events momentarily forced the frenzy of life to be put to the side, and as I slowly drank the coffee, I also took in the stories of friends who allowed me to enter their world, their joys, their pain.

On a walk around a charming neighborhood, the tune returned to my back pocket, still determined to rectify the inconvenience. But even with our quick pace, the moments slowed, and the holding music quieted. Sharing my own life stories felt like a balm, and I found myself grateful for this redirection. And when the tune caught me off guard, it’s melody reminded me: you’re still holding.

But the waiting felt life-giving.

The holding song merely tip toed as we settled in for the evening in the comfort of gracious hospitality. A quiet night and a slowed pace kept the tune at bay until I could hardly hear the reminder. I finally relented and disconnected from the monotonous song after I heard one final, “Thank you for holding. We’re sorry for the wait…” But I wasn’t sorry. And as I settled in for a longer-than-usually night’s sleep, my unexpected surroundings reminded me: you’re still holding.

And I found myself grateful for the waiting.

The inconveniences in life are never mistakes; the annoying redirections are no surprise to our Creator. And if we allow ourselves to see them as such, the moments of waiting can be life-giving. It’s even possible for the sway to the holding tune to evolve from a stiff, frustrated shuffle to a joy-filled dance.

Are you feeling the tension that builds from a season permeated with the holding tune? Patience is trusting in the Lord with whatever today may bring rather than looking ahead with frustration in order to get to tomorrow. It’s in the moments of today, planned or unplanned, that we can learn more about God, about His goodness, His kindness, His mercy, and His grace. Don’t miss God’s treasures in today’s unexpected circumstances:

“Oh, how abundant is your goodness, which you have stored up for those who fear you and worked for those who take refuge in you, in the sight of the children of mankind!” (Ps. 31:19).

It’s all about perspective.

And for me, on this occasion, I was thankful for holding.