Waiting in the lobby of the doctor’s office, all the faces I see are buried in their phones. Some are typing out a message, some are scrolling, but none are looking up. I’m sure we have all seen the articles which claim how detrimental this constant stimulation is to our minds and our social fabric. Criticism of our constant involvement online has almost become trite. We can feel it too, how it impacts our moods, our bodies, our minds. And yet, it is just so difficult to put it down.

But then again, waiting has always been hard. It is the reason hair salons buy magazine subscriptions and airlines show movies. We see it in amusement park lines and DMV queues: Impatience abounds everywhere. There even was a time when some people used to keep a book in their bathroom.

Young and old alike rebel when they must sit still and do nothing in particular. In nursing home settings, waiting is acknowledged as one of the most difficult parts of aging and becoming dependent. It has become big business to decrease wait time.

And then there are the foreboding examples that can be named. The kind of waiting that is not just inconvenient but leaves us in anguish. Waiting for medical test results. Waiting for an answer to the question we finally plucked up enough courage to ask. Waiting to finally feel the peace we pray for amid the most painful parts of our lives.

For myself, it is often the most challenging part of prayer. The longer we wait—days,  months, years—the more doubt pricks away at us. We want not only instant gratification but also the instant assurance that everything will be all right. Perhaps that is why patience is a virtue, because so often we find ourselves lacking it.

In that doctor’s office, it would be easy to pull out my own phone and fall into the never-ending stream of posts, reviews, and videos. There certainly was no one to talk to. But on that day, I just sat in the silence, remembering the words of St. Teresa of Avila: “Prayer… means taking time frequently to be alone with the One who we know loves us.”

I was not alone, not really, but for the first time that day I had nothing to do. I was already where I was supposed to be, with no task other than just waiting.  Maybe it was not an impediment to moving on with the endless stream of to-dos and mindless distractions. Maybe it was an invitation to stillness.

I settled in to just be. Listening to the click of the clock without any hurry. Feeling my own breath gently rocking my body. Noticing the beauty that exists—yes, even in the sterile offices of healthcare. Remembering that my very existence in that moment was evidence of God’s presence. And as my body relaxed and my mind focused on the moment I was in, there was a sweet peace.

As Thomas Merton says, “We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God is shining through it all the time.” If we can slow ourselves from rushing toward resolution, we might just notice how each season has its own perfection. The barren tree is just as striking as the spring buds, and the full leafy boughs of summer. But it is not just in slowing down that we will begin to see God shining through.

God dwells in each moment with us; however, we are often caught up in what happened two minutes ago and what we think will happen two minutes from now. Without realizing it, so many of us do not live in the here and now. We live on the murky remembering of the past, which only exists through our own kaleidoscopic lens of distortion. Or we live in the ornate imaginings of the future, which we craft so carefully that we begin to believe they are true.

The truth is, we are not just preoccupied with our phones or our busy schedules. We are preoccupied with our own thoughts, our mental talking, which sees fit to comment on everything and judge everyone. It is a very subtle self-obsession that distracts us from the Lord who comes as quietly as a gentle whisper. It is in quieting our minds, we begin to hear.

In our very busy lives and endless tasks these moments of impatient waiting might just be the silence we are waiting for. Rather than resisting the wait we can lean into it. Even for just five minutes. We know how much the Lord can do with just a little. Whether we are waiting for our ticket to be called or waiting for our hearts to be made new,  perhaps we can find peace in the stillness.