The Long Road

Patience is a quiet thing, A whisper when the tempests ring, It does not rush, it does not flee, It simply waits, and lets things be.

Like autumn leaves that gently fall, Or rivers carving through stone wall, It breathes instead of holding tight, And trusts the timing of the light.

The farmer waits for rain to come, The sailor waits for stars to stun, The mother waits through sleepless nights, For dawn to break with softer lights.

In desert sands the oasis waits, Behind the locked and heavy gates, The key is not to force the door, But stand and wait, then find some more.

God’s promises are never late, Though we grow weary, small, and weight, The ones who wait upon the Lord Find peace in every whispered word.

So let the moments stretch and sway, Like branches in the wind at play, For patience is not giving up— It’s faith that fills the waiting cup.

When all seems lost and hope is thin, Remember: light creeps slowly in, The sunrise doesn’t crash at dawn, It creeps—and then the day is born.

Be patient, child, and do not fear, The things you seek are drawing near, The waiting room is not wasted time, It’s where God shapes the soul to shine.