I've uttered these words before, "Patience isn't something that you happen to have, it's something that you have to make happen". Even though I spoke them straight out of my mouth, and thought how clever the words roll off of my tongue, I still ooze with impatience and wonder how I can ever love fully when I can't even get the first step right?
Do all the other love steps fall into place when the first step of patience is steadfast and sound?
I taped the words right beside me by the kitchen sink, "Love is patient, love is kind ..." and even still they tend to dissolve in the messy solutions of every day. The pristine morning flow gets all muddied up with that horrible impatient tone. Crystal clear intentions smear with hurried words and the air turns dirty and we all breathe deep with ugly frustration.
The young one with the curls, she is patient. She waits longs by the swing for mama to make her way over. She sits quiet while others learn lessons - she draws, or puzzles, or builds another tower. She asks once and then waits for a response, not pulling on skirt seams, just waiting. She waits long, sits quiet, asks without pleading.
She is still.
To be still and know Him.
The One who orbits the cosmos, yet surrounds me in this moment, asking me to be still, like the young one with curls, to wait long, sit quiet, ask without pleading?
To be still and know Love. Could this be the secret to making patience happen? When I know the essence of Love, patience abides within?
Striving for perfect patience can only lead me to defeat, when striving to lay low at His feet is what He asks.
I stand by the sink mid-day and read the words aloud. "Love is patient, love is kind ..." The young one with the curls looks up from her puzzle and smiles.
I breathe deep,
and send a smile back.