“Growth is a patient thing. No anxiety can hurry it. No care can hurry it. All about us, in a clamorous world mad with the urge of speed, growth goes on, imperceptible, divinely unhurried, paced by the slow patience and wisdom of God. We can feed growth. With potent minerals, we can give strength to the roots of the pink bud burrowing blindly down into the dark soil. But we cannot hurry them. Slowly the taproots of the bud, and of the soul, go downward, into the dark, seeking the foundation which will give them strength to stand against wind and rain. There must be sun for growth. But there must be darkness too: the deeps of the earth away from prying eyes, the deeps of pain and sorrow, bereavement, struggle despair. Sun alone is not enough. There must be rain and tears, blackness and light, that the bud may open, reach skyward, that the soul may burgeon, grow up—up—up.”

—Message, July 1962, “Growth” by Ida Elaine James