A Flicker of Patience

It started as a flicker, barely noticeable at first. Each time I passed the faulty bedroom light switch, I felt a spark of frustration. It seemed like such a simple fix, the kind of five-minute job you knocked out after dinner. But every time I mentioned it, my husband would say, “I’ll get to it later.”

Later became a week. Then two. I couldn’t understand the wait. Why let something so minor become a daily nuisance? I’d press it harder. Wiggle it. Sometimes it worked. Mostly, it didn’t. I thought about fixing it myself, but working with electricity made me nervous. So I waited, not wanting to nag him over this one tiny switch.

When he finally set aside time to fix it, I expected a quick, careless turn of the screwdriver. Instead, he worked with quiet precision: lining the new plate neatly, making sure every wire was tucked just right. I stood there, watching more than just a repair in progress. I saw the care, the deliberation behind his delay.

That night, with a quiet flick, light filled the room. In that glow, I saw more than just a working switch: I saw intention. His delay hadn’t been neglect, but a quiet promise to do it right, in his own time.

Now, each time the light comes on, I’m gently reminded: love doesn’t always fix things fast. Sometimes it takes its time: patient, steady, and quietly certain, shining brighter for the wait.

Did you have to wait a long time for a loved one to complete a seemingly simple project? Share your experiences below, and subscribe to join a group of like-minded people.