“No, Mum I’m sure he’s just busy with another patient.”
Two minutes later, “Why is he taking so long?”
“I don’t know Mum, but he will see you soon.”
Two more minutes, “Go and see the receptionist and ask her how much longer”.
Finally, “How can you be so patient?” “Well being impatient isn’t going to make the doctor see you any quicker, Mum”.
Anything of value, anything worthwhile takes time. Whether it’s learning a language, painting a masterpiece or developing a skill like patience, it doesn’t happen overnight. Mostly it’s three steps forward and two steps back but maybe the two steps backwards are the most important of all. They’re the ones that challenge us to find the strength to begin again, to find a new way forward or come to new understanding.
The final product, the skill or masterpiece, is but a fragment of a long process of becoming and in that process we are changed as imperceptibly as the product evolves.
It’s easy to buy into the myth that we need to work faster, smarter and harder. Nature tells another story. Nature is a slow awakening, an endless cycle of blossoming and fruitfulness, barrenness and dormancy. The leafless tree is most alive, storing up energy and preparing buds for the fresh round of blossom and fruit. Nature will not be hurried for it accepts its season.
How true of all creativity and indeed of life itself. We need to trust in the slow work of God as he shapes us through seasons of fruitfulness and barren places. He can’t be hurried and neither should we.
Slow me down, Lord,
To live each season to the full
not resenting the times of barrenness,
but seeing them as opportunities to listen and receive.
Slow me down, Lord,
and help me to be patient with myself.
Forgive me for wanting the end result rather than the process
of becoming.
Slow me down, Lord,
and help me to see patience,
not as a dutiful resignation to the inevitable,
but an anticipation of the beauty you have in store.