Know this: I love me some D. Mark Minick. When it comes to walking into your dreams, Minick Interiors is my go to place. I go in there for no other reason than to sit amongst the pretties. I go to Mark’s just to hear the laughter of the folks who work there. I go in there because every time I do they act like I’m the best thing in high heels to ever enter the door. I go in there to smell all the candles, feel the cushiness of the newest sofa, run my fingers over all the rich fabrics and take in the sights of all the sparkly things. Make no mistake that in my list of “things I love to do” walking into Minick Interiors is right up there with eating 27 gummy bears at one time (don’t judge me I like when all their flavors mingle in my mouth at the same time, don’t act like you know nothing of which I speak).
But know this too: I’m all kind of addicted to EBay. Of course I am because it’s a world-wide market place of other people’s junk that I never even knew I must have to continue on in life. Let’s be real honest here, it’s like getting to go to every yard sale ever from the comfort of your Minick sofa in your sock monkey pajamas. It is in fact the Wal-Mart experience without even having to get in the car to go to Wal-Mart. And you are expected to fight with folks. “I see your 50 cent increase on candle wicks and I raise you 15 cents—deal sucker!” And when challenged I yell at my computer screen, “You did not just try to outbid me last minute on the last remaining signed copy of “The Prince of Tides” well, I’m throwing another $5 at that right now……20 seconds before bidding closes. You see that TKH678—what’s that word right next to it? That’s right—WINNER! TKH678 walks away with Pat Conroy in her pocket. Why? Because she’s a stinking WINNER—BAM!” I then play Queen’s “We Are the Champions” and move on to something truly and superbly important like a space heater.
But you know what truly has me hooked on EBay? The waiting. Yep, the expectation that something good is coming to me and it’s gonna show up right there on my front porch delivered by the finest of Americus postal workers. Sometimes I sit on the porch and wait for the truck to pull up and I tell my UPS man, Tyrone, “Oh Tyrone! The bounty, the harvest of all my hard work….bring it to me, let it overwhelm me!” So as you see the waiting, the expecting, the pageantry really rings my bell. And woe unto the day there is nothing in the mailbox, when there is no brown truck complete with a smiling Tyrone to bestow goodness upon me.
Waiting. I do a lot of that. And some folks will try to tell you that waiting and not acting is a sign of poor character. Not so. The waiting, the expectation is the human condition. In Americus, Georgia we all gathered to wait on her downtown streets to see all our locals make their way pouring good cheer all over us. But you know the big wait here; it’s the red-coated Santa on the top of the Americus Fire Department Truck with sirens singing at the very end. Oh we loved seeing all the things precious about our little corner of the world go by, some of us even sat remembering what things had been lost in this year, others noted what has been gained, but we waited for the perfect happy ending. And Santa is a promise—for a Christmas parade. But Santa promises nothing else, he never promised to make all things good. The entire world is a waiting room in some sense. I am especially reminded of this fact during these Advent days.
Waiting, it’s what Advent is all about. In our world we so need to embrace the times of waiting rather than brushing it under the Minick rug and rushing to the next step. There is breath in waiting. There is life in waiting. But this is only the case if you are waiting in Hope. Waiting without Hope is pure hell, make no mistake. We are in a state of waiting, go ahead and make friends with this fact. But don’t lose your Hope. Waiting with Hope is like a beautiful waltz. Waiting in angst is nothing short of torture. Sometimes “working everything for your good” takes a little time. Give yourself that time. And dream. And be pregnant with Hope. Join me in creating a waiting room in your life. A place that might have no resolved answers, a place that holds anticipation close, a place where you trust the good will come. Because here is the promise of Advent: the waiting ends with a perfect gift. The most perfect gift that you must have to continue on in life. Because this I know, that I know, that I know: when the waiting is over—Bam! You’re the winner. It’s the promise of Christmas. It’s the promise of Hope.
Here’s to all the great good promises that Christmas brings.
D. Mark, Snooky, Miss Kitty, Gail, Lydia Ann, Bo, Lisa, Terri, Reese, Michael, and little ole me…. well, we just wish you bundles of Merry and Bright, but mostly Hope. Always Hope.