Wait, just wait. How many things are there that we end up waiting for each day? The water to boil, the phone to ring, the morning to dawn, the clouds to clear, the light to turn green, the line to move, the test results to come back... Sometimes it seems like nothing is happening, nothing at all.
When I plant a seed, a long part of the process is waiting. Waiting for the nutrients and the warmth and the water to nudge that tough seed in to action; for the casing of the seed coat to weaken and split open; for the embryo to swell and form a new shape; for the fledgling stem to turn and probe and push its way through the dirt toward the light; all of this in slow motion, over many days, invisible action being carried out hidden away below the surface.
A baby conceived and hidden away in the mother, with slow, daily, imperceptible changes until the mom begins to show, the baby's growth becoming visible, yet remaining unseen.
It may look like nothing is happening, but it is. The structure of the atoms is changing, the preparations are happening, the circumstances are falling into place, the buds are forming, becoming a blossom to burst out of the calyx.
Even if we can't see it, we imagine and trust. Just think of all that is going on, unseen, while we wait, just wait. As a family we are waiting for housing deals to close, job opportunities to open, and a grandbaby to quietly grow and develop over the next six months. The toughest part is knowing when to do, when to work, and when to wait, just wait.