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My name is Tanner Olson and I am an author, poet, and speaker. Here I share whatever comes to mind. Sometimes I’ll post a prayer or poem or reflection or story. Before you move onto the next thing hit the subscribe button!
April is National Poetry Month. It is also the national month of hope. The poetry I write (and perform) is written with the intention to spread hope. Waiting. Wandering. Wondering. is a poem about prayer and hope.
I wrote it during the Pandemic, which was the same season my wife and I were walking through the dark and lonely days of infertility.
We prayed and prayed and prayed and I wondered if God heard me.
And He did, because that’s what He does.
He hears us when we pray, just like He walks with us through the dark and lonely days.
He was just doing something that I couldn’t yet see.
Yet, His way is for the better, even if it is taking forever.
Don’t want to read today’s post? Watch the video.
Looking for a hopeful book of poetry? Check out my book, Walk A Little Slower: A Collection of Poems and Other Words.
Waiting. Wandering. Wondering.
God, I am beginning to wonder if You can hear me.
I have whispered and yelled and sat silent and everything in between.
I have flipped flopped my thumbs, left over right, right over left, thinking maybe if my hands were folded the right way You would hear what I have been trying to say.
I have closed my eyes and thought so tight I could feel the veins in my face become visible.
I have confessed at stop lights, cried out in the middle of sleepless nights, and have wrestled spite with all my might.
And nothing feels quite right.
Like it says, I have prayed without ceasing and my hands are sore from releasing.
Or at least they have tried.
If my thoughts are prayers, I cannot stop praying.
I have been wandering around in the waiting
hopefully anticipating, but I am still here wondering.
And waiting.
And hopefully anticipating for Your answer to arrive.
Except for the other day.
We didn’t talk or at least I didn’t talk to You.
I didn’t want to.
It wasn’t because I was angry, although I was.
And You knew that.
And it wasn’t because I was worried, although I was.
And You knew that, too.
I was scared.
I am scared.
Scared of the potential what if and what now, the constant questioning of why and how.
Terrified of deconstructing dreams and resetting reality.
Fearful of failing to be faithful through the fire.
And I am tired.
Life was much easier when I was a young boy,
but now that I am older, I am struggling to see through the pain and uncertainty with hope and joy.
But through it all, somehow, some way, You are working beauty together with my waiting.
Intertwining peace with patience; time with grace.
Sitting by my side in this unsettled space.
Today, I pray, as I wait and wonder if You will keep me from going under.
May I remain hopeful.
May I remain patient.
May I remain ready.
And may You give me the faith to wait and wonder.
Your way is for the better even if it is taking forever.
"But through it all, somehow, some way, You are working beauty together with my waiting." (And your writing🙏🤍) Well into my 6th decade of life on planet earth; still catching and collecting glimpses of this beauty. *♡*
He hears us, because that's what he does...thank you for your words!