Patience.
The very word is slow, spoken with a rounded “a” sound and a soft, squishy “sh” middle sound. Even the ending is a silky “s”. It is almost soporific.
It conjures up the concept of mañana, meaning that “at some point in the future this will happen”. Said under a palm tree in the tropics it has a gentle tone, a sentiment floating on a hot breeze. It evokes images of coconut oil, mangoes and tiny cocktail umbrellas.
This kind of patience is relaxed waiting, body languidly giving up the fight to control life. The only concern is to ensure the tiny umbrella doesn’t poke you in the eye when you lift the piña colada to your sun-drenched lips.
Sadly, I am not in the tropics. I am in the south of England, where there are no hot breezes and the only umbrellas are huge flappy ones that get buckled by lashing rain and gusting sea gales. It’s hard to be patient when your umbrella turns upside down and inside out and rain is swirling around your person. You feel like you are in a car wash. This is not a soporific experience.
I was stuck in traffic recently, and had time to study a bumper sticker: “I had my patience tested. It’s negative.” This summed up my state of mind perfectly.
I once prayed for God to give me patience. A word to the wise: never do that. In answer to my prayer, He has given me so many opportunities to practice patience my blood pressure sometimes rises to dangerous levels. I had to buy a home blood pressure machine to keep track of how I was doing with regard to developing patience.
What I learned, while I waited for life to turn out the way I wanted it to in the time frame I deemed necessary, was that life does not run according to my agenda. Other people, it seems, do not share my sense of urgency. Instead they appear to ride the undulating waves of life with casual aplomb. Of course, while I learn about patience, I am careful to play the part. The face I show the world expresses deep inner peace, and I smile as I (patiently) wait for the outcomes to situations that I need and expect.
But my internal face is altogether different. My teeth grind and my heart rate increases as I wait, wait, wait for my need to be fulfilled. Now. I need this NOW. True patience is beyond me!
I can be patient if there is a short-term, guaranteed outcome. If I know that a business payment is coming through on a certain date and I know the company is always on time, I can rest easy. I can wait. All is good. I can also be patient when waiting for a holiday to start. The happy anticipation of going away makes patience easy. I know it will come. There will be a hot breeze. There will be a tiny umbrella. There is comfort in the dreaming.
Long-term patience is proving to be a challenge. We in EnRich are exploring many options and ideas at present. Two of our major goals are coming into view. One is only for next year but one is happening now – we are becoming an accredited training company, and soon will be able to deliver our own content on coaching in the workplace. Equipping leaders is integral to our ethos and vision and this platform will reach leaders nationwide. But making this happen is demanding time and effort … and patience.
The move from dreaming of “what if?” to giving birth to a new reality is slow, slow, slow. You cannot be impatient. Teeth grinding doesn’t do squat. If I wore my gnashers down to little stubs the process would not happen any quicker. I must patiently go step by step.
Occasionally these steps become giant strides, and I am astonished to reach my goal so quickly, with no waiting required! On those occasions, inner peace is achieved and the smile on my face is real.
More often I must just plod along, one step at a time, trying to keep my impatience at bay. These steps require a bit of waiting, and the pace is determined by factors outside my control. I must keep reminding myself that at least I am moving. My patience barometer drops, but it stays out of the danger zone.
Quite often my steps become shuffles and I can barely discern movement. I see the dream and stretch out my fingers to touch it, but it is too far away. More steps must be taken before I get there. Other people need to do their part in order for me to progress. Other aspects of life block my path, and I am completely out of control. My heart begins to fail within me. I fear that the meeting between time and expectation has been postponed indefinitely. The kind of patience needed to deal with this is wearying. It impacts my body. It plays havoc with my thoughts. But wait I must.
I do eventually always move out of this shuffle step sequence, usually when I least expect it. I start breathing again, and find my feet lifting higher off the floor. There is movement. The goal becomes clearer and a dollop of patience enters my heart. My blood pressure readings change direction and my shuffle becomes a plod.
Sometimes I smell a faint aroma of mangoes floating on a hot breeze, and I know I can do this.
I can wait.
Let me know…
- What tries your patience?
- How do you manage times of waiting?
- According to Proverbs 13:12, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when the desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life.” What is your experience of this statement?