Kneading Patience

Have you ever had a long, wearying morning? Joy could probably relate. 

Shopping can wear out even the indefatigable, and my ambitious “do-it-all-in-the-one-day-you-have-a-car-this-week” attitude had tuckered the both of us out on that particular cold Winter day. Big adult problems filled my grown-up head as we drove along home. But dear little Joy? The greatest longing of her heart was to be out of her car seat, and out now! My heart wanted to break as I saw her very sad little face in my rear-view mirror, the car filled trunk to hood with her desperate cries for relief from the awful confines of that terrible car seat. 

“Oh Sweetie,” I heard myself crooning soothingly over and over amidst the din. “It’s gonna be alright Sweet Girl. You’re not gonna be here forever, Joy. Just wait a little longer. We are almost home, we are almost home.”

Suddenly my eyes spilled over in tears, the kind that get you by surprise and take over like the conquest of Troy. Suddenly it wasn’t baby Joy in the car seat anymore, it was her Mommy, and her Daddy-God was the gentle car Driver. He knew the whole journey well, for He had navigated these roads thousands of times before. His heart broke at my whimpering pleas for relief and for a speedy end to confines I didn’t understand. Her whimpering pleas suddenly seemed my own, as I begged God to answer my prayers for several situations, and do it NOW. Moreover, the words changed ownership as they came from my mouth and God started speaking them to me: 

“You’re not going to be here forever, Sweetie. Just wait a little longer. I wish I could get you out, but it’s not the best for you. Oh, I’m so sorry, I know you don’t understand. It is breaking my heart to hear you cry! But Sweet Girl, we’re almost Home. We’re almost Home!”

I imagined my Father, working on my life perhaps as a hunk of bread dough. From His perspective, my Tribulations were kneading some necessary Patience into my dough. 

Patience, mixed with time, was creating a beautiful and valuable Experience. Experience, coming out of the heat of the oven, brought with it the rich aroma of Hope; and my Heavenly Papa knew that the Hope would come with a new abundance of unashamedness and love! (See Romans 5:3-5) From His perspective, the patience wasn’t going to last forever, nor was it going to ruin anything. From His perspective, my weary cries broke His heart, and He longed to take me out! But it wasn’t yet time. For my good.

I think back over the last several years of my life, and the seasons they contain. As I reminisce through the changing periods of sorrow and joy, dying and resurrection, I imagine my Father right there, walking through it all right beside me. During the seasons of tribulation, He was there, guiding my heart into patience. As I emerged slowly from the intensity of the tribulation, He was there gently handing me the gift of a new experience that He had purposefully thought up or allowed. Then came the celebration together of Hope! The season of rejoicing in the goodness of my Father which I had chosen to believe in when I couldn’t see it.

“We’re almost Home, we’re almost Home!” I could almost hear His encouraging whisper in my heart. Ah. From His perspective, my trials are not all that long. In fact, in comparison to an exciting eternity with Him, they are just about to forever end! I’m almost Home! Heaven is just up ahead. It feels like my current trials will last forever, but they will not. They aren’t immortal! There is hope, if I am only willing to surrender my heart to the voice of my Father and trust His perspective above mine.

In the car, familiar surroundings glided past outside the windows. My daughter’s darling blue eyes, however, were tightly closed. Unlike me, she couldn’t see that we were 3/4 of the way down Prince Street, and it would only be three more minutes till her Mama was lifting her from her seat to snuggle and comfort her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her mouth was furiously at work with air over vocal chords, heartbreaking as the funeral wails of the heathen. As her mother, my feelings for her helped me realize how badly God was wishing that I could understand just how short my trials really will turn out to be. For from His perspective? They are classified Light, Momentary. Compared, that is, to what’s ahead in eternity with Him!

Today as I quiet my heart, He is assuring me that He knows that the waiting hurts, and He cares about the feeling of His daughter who can’t see beyond the confines of the “car seat”. And yes, like He promised, Experiences of the last years of my life have come to me with the aroma of Hope. I am learning that I’m loved while “strapped in my car seat”. I’m learning to relax and enjoy the ride. 

And to my deep relief and joy, with the passing of time I’m beginning to think my little daughter is learning, too.