Teach us, O Lord, the disciplines of patience, for to wait is

Hear now the prayerful words of Peter Marshall, a Scottish-American preacher whose voice once thundered in the pulpits of Washington and echoed in the chambers of the United States Senate. He cried: “Teach us, O Lord, the disciplines of patience, for to wait is often harder than to work.” In this plea we hear both confession and wisdom. For though men and women often rise eagerly to labor, to toil, to build, there is a far heavier burden—the burden of waiting. Work engages the hands and distracts the mind, but waiting leaves the soul exposed, suspended between hope and fear, longing and silence.

The meaning is profound: patience is not merely the absence of action, but a spiritual discipline, forged in endurance and strengthened by faith. To work is to move, to strive, to fight forward; but to wait is to surrender control, to stand still while the heart aches for progress. This is why Marshall prayed for divine teaching, for only heaven can grant the strength to endure in the long seasons where time itself feels like an enemy.

History bears witness to the difficulty of waiting. Consider the tale of Nelson Mandela, who languished in prison for twenty-seven long years. Many men could have risen to fight with weapons in hand, but to endure such years of enforced silence required a discipline far greater than toil. His waiting was not idle; it was filled with inner preparation, with the cultivation of forgiveness and vision. When at last freedom came, he was not broken but made stronger, and he carried a nation on his shoulders. This is the triumph of patience.

In the ancient scriptures too, we find this truth. The people of Israel toiled under Pharaoh, but it was their waiting in the desert that tested them most. For in work there is purpose, but in waiting there is uncertainty. Many faltered, longing to return to chains rather than endure the discipline of waiting for the Promised Land. Here too, we see Marshall’s wisdom: waiting is often harder than working, for it demands trust in what is unseen.

The lesson is clear: we must learn the discipline of patience, not as a passive state, but as an active trust, a quiet strength, a refusal to despair when the harvest seems delayed. To wait rightly is to prepare the soul, to keep hope alive, to believe that what is sown in silence will one day bloom. Without this discipline, we grow restless, reckless, and despairing, abandoning blessings that are just beyond the horizon.

Practical wisdom springs from this: when faced with delay, do not waste the waiting. Use the time to grow in wisdom, to strengthen your spirit, to cultivate gratitude for the small steps. Remember that not all battles are won by striving; some are won by enduring. In your own life, when progress seems slow, do not despise the silence. See it as the furnace in which your patience is purified and your character is made ready.

Therefore, engrave this truth upon your heart: to wait is often harder than to work, but both are necessary in the shaping of the soul. Pray, as Peter Marshall prayed, for the strength to endure the slow seasons of life. For the Lord Himself works not only through the hands that labor, but through the hearts that wait. And in the fullness of time, He makes all things beautiful for those who have endured with patience.