It must have rained while we were away because the lavender beside our front door is in full bloom. Its bluish-purple flowers and muted leaves stand elegant and calm, laden with scent that transports me back to childhood memories of summer gardens. A tiny cluster of worker bees meticulously fly from spike to flower spike burying their heads and legs in petals to collect grains and pollen.

I have no idea where their hives are, although I know they live in tight community and are amongst the most important pollinators on earth, producing a food that man eats.

Bees are busy. The infertile worker bees buzz past my head, their heightened sense of smell drawing them to flowers far and near. Yet, despite their busyness, I note their steady focus and quiet calm.

A brief smile cracks my lips. A few hours earlier we had landed at Heathrow after a trip to Africa. Deplaning, we had joined the frantic dash to retrieve our carry-on luggage from the plane’s overhead bins as everyone else did the same. Eventually, we filed off the plane, made a dash to border control and then congregated with other passengers in the artificial light of baggage claim. Delayed for whatever reason, our suitcases were slow to arrive, and people began bemoaning the wait and loss of time.

Our re-entry to England reflected nothing of the steady focus of the bees on our lavender bush or the slower pace of life we’d just experienced in rural Africa.

Taken up with the adverts that lined the walls of the airport’s arrival hall, I pondered the luxury items. Each one, modelled by beautiful people, seemed to promise transformation, and all available at zero interest today. Why wait? If we want it, have it now!  

This elimination of waiting appears to pervade every area of life. People even speak of personal transformation, of changing on the inside quickly. ‘Follow this programme,’ they cry, ‘and you will be different in a week, a month or a year.’ This has never been my experience. Of course, some things really do bring rapid change, but most of the changes that occur at the core of our being take a lifetime.  

Society’s expectations for instant gratification and instant transformation certainly have not fitted with my daily Christian walk with God. My progress has been slow. I haven’t grown up quickly or efficiently, although I did think differently when I was young

As I get older, I begin to understand: waiting is a gift. God’s call to walk with him is the call to become the person he created me to be. In that walking, he imparts patience to wait and trust, which strengthens my faith. Sometimes I can walk unhurried and at a steady pace. Other times I want to rush. I want things and answers now! But gently my faith grows. Not that it saves me; God’s faithfulness saves me.

The bees work through the spring and summer. Often unnoticed, they carry on without fanfare, fulfilling their tasks, each of which strengthens the hive, producing something complex and beautiful for others to enjoy.

In a world of rush and instant gratification, God remains unhurried. He knows that the important things ripen in their own season, not in dramatic ways but in the everyday practice of keeping a quiet faithful heart, of growth, change and contentment which bears fruit that remains.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2026