You are patient.
We are anxious.
If you in your glorious power and supreme reign can wait, why can’t the dust below you?
Why do we insist on acting when you would like us to love stillness?
Why do we run from the very thing you are – a patient God?
The fruit of patience is ripe once a year.
It does not blossom every season but is fulfilling only in spring.
But we do not wish to wait for such a gift.
We lack the wisdom in accepting our lot and your providence.
Forgive our impatience.
Forgive our rebellion.
Teach us the sweetness found in waiting.
Remind us that resurrection waits.