When eager for change – whether it’s in yourself or in your circumstances – waiting can feel like standing still. There are seasons when nothing appears to move – days pass, effort is made, and yet nothing seems to visibly shift. That pause can be uncomfortable, even discouraging, but it doesn’t mean nothing is happening. Stillness is not stagnation. It is often preparation – quiet, deliberate, and necessary.
Patience is the willingness to remain present while change is already unfolding beneath the surface. It’s the understanding that the waiting time is not wasted time. Much of what matters most grows invisibly at first, shaping itself where the eye cannot yet follow.
Change rarely arrives all at once. It unfolds in layers, requiring time for foundations to strengthen before anything visible can emerge. Often, the waiting is not a pause in the journey, but a quiet reshaping of the person who will take the next step – habits are forming, perspectives are adjusting, resilience is building. What feels like delay is often preparation – growth that wouldn’t hold if it came too quickly.
The same is true of circumstances beyond our control. Pieces move, alignments form, and timing matures long before the outcome appears. We may not see how today connects to tomorrow, but each moment of patience is part of a larger process that’s still in motion.
Quiet does not mean abandoned. G-d is as present in concealment as in revelation. If we can learn to trust the unseen work, we will discover that the stillness is part of the movement, and that time is not our enemy but the ally that ensures we’re prepared and ready for change when it does appear.
Inspired by the teachings of the Maharal of Prague, Rabbi Yehudah Loew (1512-1609)