Rabindranath Tagore says

On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.
But it is never lost, my lord. 
Thou hast taken every moment of my life
in thine own hands.
Hidden in the heart of things 
thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts,
buds into blossoms, 
and ripening flowers into fruitfulness
I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed 
and imagined all work had ceased.
In the morning I woke up and
found my garden full with wonders of flowers.