Do you want to know, after all my dramatics at the dinner table, what is the consistent utterance from my lips? What I hear Jeremiah praying for me each morning before he straps himself back on to the end of that chain...Patience. Patience. Patience. Patience. How many times have I prayed the words, "Lord, help me to be slow to anger and abounding in love..." I desire a gentle and quiet spirit, one that has the patience to endure all things, with love. From the fact that Pace refuses to learn the letter "A," to Mary Aplin's temper tantrums every time I strap her in the carseat, to the playroom that is forever and always needing to be picked up--give me the patience to conquer each task, without tying another knot in my neck, and without showing my family the blackness of my sin-filled heart.
Someone warned me once, that patience is the last thing you want to ask God for. "When you ask for it, get ready for Him to teach it to you." I am willing to attest to the fact that He has given me ample opportunities to learn, and I still see no real end in sight. I think my new prayer may be, "Lord grant me the patience to learn how to be patient."