It’s Patient

Patience assumes goodness out of what it waits for.

The first descriptor of love in 1 Corinthians 13 is that it is patient. If we were to take a survey asking to give a word to describe love, I don’t know how many of us myself included would lead with patience. But the Scriptures do.

When it comes to the salvation of humankind the adjective that describes God’s saving work and His judgment is patient.

The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

2 Peter 3:9

Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation

2 Peter 3:15

Without patience we would die waiting for good things. Patience is evidence that we are alive and in love.

An oversimplified way I like to contrast patience as love is in the comparison of waiting at a Bus Stop vs. waiting at the DMV.

Waiting at the DMV for license renewal or any other reason to go and all the bureaucracy that comes with it is time consuming. It also just confirms that you already know how to drive. Thus waiting feels arbitrary and somewhat excruciating. Unless it is the first time you get your license, there is little satisfaction other than leaving the DMV.

Bus Stop Love or Train Station Love or Airport love, is waiting for your beloved to arrive. It is the exhilaration and anticipation of waiting for the one who has been on the journey or if you are the one traveling, the anticipation of being reunited with the one that will greet you. Or instead of a person perhaps just arriving at your destination.

That which separates the two is desire; The seat of desire is our heart. Patience is cultivated in proportion to our desires and perfected when we desire good and godly/heavenly things. Patience turns towards impatience whenever we take something meant to be good and we move towards obtaining something before its proper time. Our heart becomes sick or deceptive in its pull towards our perceived want.

Impatience implies the lack of good, either through distorted desire or improper perspective. When we view that which we desire as something we need, or it takes the place of God, we can easily grow impatient, hoping something alternative to God will satisfy even though it cannot. Giving in to this is like watching love slip away.

Patience fades, desire fulfills, sin is born. And the moment prior, when we thought we knew better reveals itself as destructive. Hopefully, through feeling contrition, we recognize that it would have been better had we waited. We wish we would have assessed better why we wanted something or Who is the giver of good things and then wait for it in its proper time.

Because that’s what love does. It waits. It’s patient.

Prose: Simple-Hearted

In the spring, it became apparent we had lost each other for quite some time. I had become rote in my ability to disappoint. You had become distant before and after discussion on top of discussion. Together we suffered and our affection caught glaucoma. Nearness and touch gave way to a glance that at times was familiar and others was as unwelcome as a strangers gaze.

I placed my baggage on a chair at the table and asked you where you woud like to start. Should we start with mine or yours? Would you like to dump it all out at once and sort through it or take it out one piece at a time until it becomes intolerable?

Desire carried us then to lighten each other’s load

How patient are you now?

I find we both can be patient, depending on how generous we are feeling and if our longing for something else abates in order to notice each others need for tenderness.

Together, yet separately, we crafted versions of one another that were neither true in regard to our selfish motives nor the overtly romantic notions of who we wanted each other to be.

And this too gave way to accepting the imperfect person standing there doing dishes, taking out trash, folding clothes, leaving clothes on the ground, scrubbing the toilet, leaving hair in the sink, crankiness, irritability, depression, with the one whom we chose to at one time make a home with. Whom we recently have forgotten to make a home with. Who will care for us in our neglect?

I have refined you and you me, or at least, we have been useful in the process. It was not our usefulness that made us or kept us face to face. It was our hearts circulating willingess to lay down parts of the self to inherit much of the other, and there we were able to return.

To the smiles, the giggles, to the hands we hold across the table and the breath we both hear and have frequently felt intimately, and it is the many moments in the delight of familiarity that we find each others eyes again and again.

And there simple hearts are known.