Wait Patiently

It’s 15 minutes until the next F train – the one that carries me to work – will arrive at Roosevelt Ave. The man beside me smells of cologne. He types quickly in Spanish on Whatsapp. I take it he’s heading somewhere different than the man with a paint-splattered backpack who’s obviously going to work. I suppose a 100 commuters surround me this early Saturday morning, each one waiting for a train. Because I just missed an R train back at Elmhurst, I had to wait for another. I watched a F train zip past on the express track while I stood on the local subway platform. (So missing one train, easily makes my arrival time 20 minutes later.)

It amazes me how patiently New Yorkers, for the most part, wait. And we do wait: on an elevator, on trains, buses, in traffic, in the post office, and in long check out lines.

(I’m writing the remainder while on the Sunday morning church-bound train.) The train eventually came. Sitting between two heavily jacketed men, I was on my way to Roosevelt Island and the farmer’s market.

However, it was not the end of my train-waiting woes. After work I did the long walk back to the train station. (The “wild turkey crossing”  made me smile. I’m a witness to a wild turkey on the island.) The sign in the station said that it would be 19 minutes until the next train. I sighed and settled in to read the blogs of others. (I especially enjoy the one of the woman who is hiking the Triple Crown.) The sign switched to 18 minutes and then didn’t change for a long time. I must have waited 30 minutes for a train. Waiting with patience? I’m a work in progress when it comes to the patient factor.

I prayed for an R local at Roosevelt Ave, but no, it would be 13 minutes before one appeared. The weather was nice and I decided, rather than wait, I’d give patience a break and walk home.

The experience goes with the life lesson God is teaching us. This morning, Laurence chose the song, “Waiting on God for His blessing today.”

“Let patience have her perfect work, that you may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing” (James 1:4).  Berniece 3/2/25