On wasting time

Arrived at medical rooms to find seats filled with previous callers. Entertainment via large-screen cricket. Persons huddled over outdated magazines; advertising noises; receptionist gossiping with pal; worrying cough from fellow traveller. This will take the better part of an hour.

            Everyone thrilled to see everyone else.

            What is wasting time? Cricket gives focus, prevents conversation, even if eyes weren’t glued to mobile phones. What other use would I have for this time?

            Can you pray in a waiting room? (I mean real waiting, not emergency anxiety.) Well, you can observe. Light plays over the blue paint. Rain out the window, glowing on plants. All these bent heads, looking away from each other, down at the phone, down at the news. Red-gold hair of young person in green jumper. Circular shape of large lady with folded hands. Space. Shoes. Sounds.

            Can you ask a question? ‘Who am I?’ Here, instead of there. Would I like to spend my last day doing this? Is not time to be used?

            Everyone here a soul for whom Christ died, as saints remind us. Bound for judgement, or resurrection. Good company here. What is wasting time? Is not time to be used?