And while they were there, the time came for her baby to be born. She gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him snugly in strips of cloth and laid him in a manger, because there was no lodging available for them.
_{Luke 2:6-7 NLT}

These things cannot be rushed
not baby’s growing in wombs
nor children learning to crawl then walk
We see God’s timing in everything.

These things cannot be hurried
not the breaking open of seeds
nor roots reaching down
Fruit comes in its due season.

These things you cannot quicken
not birth
nor pain
not the prodigal’s return.

“Why wait?” we exclaim
I’m growing impatient
I can’t take the grief
all I want is relief.

This waiting’s too hard
I don’t understand
How can this be good
and part of your plan?

My child do not fret
or worry or fear
you’ll see that the waiting
is what draws you near.

For everything there is a season,
    a time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
    A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
    A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
    A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
    A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
    A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
    A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
    A time for war and a time for peace.
_{Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NLT}