Waiting

Patience is not only an ability to wait; but being steady, calm and serene while waiting out of faith. It’s about to withstand with equanimity.

In an hour of waiting, we babble against time and fate. It’s nothing but one kind of complaining. We prattle or bloviate; but instead of it we can believe; my shall come to me.

Though Burroughs was burdened by many problems and responsibilities at the time, thought the outlook for the future was anything but promising, he did not “rave against time or fate.” He did not become bitter, impatient, resentful. He looked within himself and found his own tranquility. In the midst of turmoil and uncertainty he was able to write, “Serene, I fold my hands and wait.”

We reap what we have sown. It is inevitable. We can not avoid it. Fruits will be ripen and meet me at right time and in the right space. It is assured to come. As a brook springs and sprints in the rain; it draws and flows certainly.

In this disquieting times, “Waiting” has a special meaning for all of us. Don’t worry about the future,is a comforting message. Don’t be uneasy or impatient. Be calm and serene… for what is best for us will come to us in time, as surely as the tides rise and the stars shine. So wait steadily with faith; without losing a heart.

Wonderful lines written by John Burroughs...  

Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.

The waters know their own and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height;
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.

The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.

By John Burroughs