Thursday morning I had an appointment at the doctor's office. In time I was ensconced in the examination room, in that state of deshabille that is required of one in doctors' examination rooms. But the doctor did not appear. I waited and waited and waited some more, yet the doctor did not come. There was nothing to read in the examination room, only a few posters of adorable children on the walls and one on the ceiling, depicting a tree being struck by lightning-- which I take as an example of my doctor's sense of humor. Even if there had been anything to read in the room, I wouldn't've wanted to get up and fetch it. It was chilly enough in there as it was and I didn't want to raise a draft.
But I had to do something to pass the time. So I made up a waiting song. And after I went home, I finished it. Here it is:
We are waiting
For the sons of God to be revealed;
When all creation
Will shout in wonder
When we shall be revealed.
M: Who are the sons of God?
W: All who believe in Christ,
A: Male and female, Jew and Gentile,
We are the sons of God!
And we are waiting . . .
W: How does He give us life?
M: By dying for our sins;
A: Took our punishment on Calv’ry,
Jesus the Son of God.
And we are waiting . . .
M: How does He make us sons?
W: By rising from the dead;
A: Puts His life eternal in us
And makes us sons of God.
And we are waiting . . .
W: What is our hope and prayer?
M: Our rising from the grave;
A: Clothed with Jesus Christ forever,
Adopted sons of God!
And we are waiting . . .
(Copyright 2005 St. Blogwen's Well)
This evening, I wrote down the tune for it. The chorus is behaving very badly, wanting to sound entirely too much like the kids' song "Father Abraham." It's a traditional song, but I hate anything that smells like plagiarism. Nevertheless, it's what the words wanted, so it is what it is.
And my doctor's visit? Oh, that revealed that all is well. And may it be the last of its sort for a good long time!
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