When I consider how my light is spent
E’re half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
Doth God exact day-labor, light denied,
I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts, who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best, his state
Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.
– John Milton
Having had wrested from me my own expectations for my medium term future on two fronts, having accepted what I thought was God’s Will – help this child, accept this commission – I was at His bidding (or so I thought) speeding over land and ocean without rest. Now I find myself waiting, yet again, for new direction. They also serve who only stand and wait. Good thing.