His state is kingly

Woke up early with Stefan this morning, and read a little bit of Milton. Poem about waiting on God. It reminded me of how I feel sometimes limited because of the talent I have but cannot use because I must take care of kids. I have read the poem many times before but never thought of it that way. Resonating in my mind as I went back to sleep were the words, "wait," and "write." Of course Milton didn't quit writing when he went blind. He used his daughters as his amaneunses. Hmm... Here's the poem. When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide; "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?" I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need Either man's work or His own gifts. Who best Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait." Reading Milton changed my life; made me think of higher things, almost made me quit school (long story). Every time I encounter him it makes me pause, think, and want to strive to be a better writer.