Only
the knowing that the doing this was doing the will of God reconciles me
to the waiting that one instant longer, that his mother need not have
waited but for that. So, John, perhaps you and I are waiting to do some
little thing, some little thing that we do not know the meaning of,
before God's will can be perfect concerning us. It may be as near to us
as was the napkin about the head of the Lord. I was forgetting that,
after he died for us, there was any of the Father's will left for him to
do. And I suppose he folded that napkin as willingly as he gave himself
up to the cross. John, that does help me--I am so impatient at
interruptions to what I call my 'work,' and I am so impatient for the
Lord to work for me."
"Yes," he answered slowly, "it is hard to realize that we _must_ stop to
do every little thing. But I do not stop, I pass the small things by.
Prudence, I am burning up with impatience to-night."
"Are you? I am very quiet."
"If you knew something about Jerome that I do not know, and it would
disturb me to know it, would you tell me?"
"If I should judge you by myself I should tell you. How can one person
know how a truth may affect another? Tell me what you know; I am
ready."
But she trembled exceedingly and staggered as she walked.
"Take my arm," he said, quietly.
She obeyed and leaned against him as they moved on slowly; it was too
dark for them to see each other's faces clearly, a storm was gathering,
the outlines of the house they were approaching, were scarcely
distinguishable.
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