Tuesday morning, sitting in the community service center with queue number 94 in my hand

I took a half-day off on Tuesday morning. There was one document I'd been putting off since the move. I got to the community service center right when it opened, and my number was already 94, while the board showed 81. That meant twelve people ahead of me.

I sat on a plastic chair, took out my phone, and put it back. Four unread notifications had already piled up in the work messenger. I could see the afternoon filling up to make up for the half-day, and thinking about it made all the sitting feel like a debt. The number on the board took about three minutes to change. The older person beside me was fiddling with a folded ID card, and across from us a child was fussing in a stroller. The voice at the counter sounded a little more worn out with each number called, and by the ticket machine someone who had just come in sighed the way I had. Everyone was simply waiting, and I seemed to be the only one who had checked the clock ten times.

If sitting here counts as getting something done

I set the ticket on top of my bag and opened still().

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:13 (WEB)

The word "can" caught my eye. It didn't say I have to; it said I can. It didn't sound like a push from behind; it sounded like a door being left open. I'm not sure whether this verse had the forty minutes of waiting to pick up one document in mind, too. Still, I thought I might put sitting in this chair on the list of things I can do. That was honestly all I had to do today. I don't know which is harder, getting things done or waiting.

I turned my phone over and left it on my lap. My hands felt empty at first. Instead I read the notice about services on the wall all the way through, and although I had never read it before, it was oddly interesting. I just watched the board move on to 82, 83. The older person next to me was called up first and came back out five minutes later, smiling. My turn came after nearly forty minutes, and the counter took four.

On the way out, I folded the ticket in half and tucked it between the papers. On the bus to the office, I opened the messenger and found that two of the four notifications had already been handled by someone else.

Today's breath — While waiting, turn the phone over and let out one long breath.