Have Patience

“My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing that the trying of your faith worketh patience.  But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”  (James 1:2-4)

From the time I was small, I remember the pulpit joke that went something like this – “Be careful what you pray for (ominous stare over the top of the pastor’s glasses). Don’t ever ask God to give you (dramatic pause) patience…for He will answer your prayer by bringing you into circumstances that require you to be patient!”  Everyone laughed.  Everyone got it.  No one wanted to intentionally be put into a scenario where they had to learn patience – we simply wanted it to be seamlessly added to our repertoire of spiritual gifts.  We hoped to wake up in the tiring mess of life and find it easy and natural and comfortable to be patient.

And who doesn’t?  Wouldn’t life be so much sweeter if circumstances did not fracture the cheerful expectation?  If delays did not resonate with sickening disappointment because what we desired took an undetermined layover somewhere?  Wouldn’t we have much more boldness to face an unknown future if enduring brought us delight and waiting was like being turned loose in a candy store?

Yet our flesh does not recognize these gifts as good, even though she is truly a gift.  So much so, that we are to count ALL of it joy when we head into the tsunami of multiple adversity.

All of it?  Even when the dreams and plans and goals you had are hung up with red tape, and you wrestle with circumstances you never wanted, try to survive financial reversals you couldn’t have side-stepped, pick up the broken pieces of health or relationships or career?  Even when the ministry you dreamed of doing, or the friendships you poured yourself into, or the family you’ve been entrusted with has rung every last drop from you and assaulted your heart with a lack of gratitude, rejection, or false accusations?  Even when the news keeps being bad, and hope is still deferred?  Life’s adversities can be brutal, and it is the most unnatural thing in the world to count these places as joy.

Yet the command is there, clearly written so that it will broker no argument.  And with the command there is a reason given, a glimpse into the eternal working of a patient Father on our behalf. You see, she has a work to do…a work that ONLY she can do.  In fact, if we saw life as the Father sees it, and if we saw ourselves as we really are, we would be begging Him to not leave us be until she had fully accomplished in us what she was designed to do.

By nature we have strengths, and although these diamonds in the rough are given us by God, they are encased in our sin nature.  Adversity is like the chisel in the hands of the Almighty.  Patiently, slowly, He strikes at what holds us back – knowing that we will fight and thrash and cry out – yet also knowing that we can never come to full maturity of character and soul without having what holds us back stripped away.  The Father is not so interested in the abundance of things we wished to accomplish, or the stress and pain we wished to avoid – His primary interest is that the freedom, and the light, and the nature of His Son be formed in us.

And patience enables us to mature and grow up into Him in all things.  Patience buys into the nature of the Father and Son.  She says, “He is to be trusted, and I can count upon Him in every circumstance to be working good on my behalf.”  She humbles herself under the Father’s hand, even when reviling and railing persecutes her, or pain besets her, or she feels to have been lost in the shuffle, or she grieves what once was and is no more, or she is humiliated by her own lack, her own failure.  She doesn’t let go of what He has promised her, for she knows that He cannot lie and that His promises are as sure and true in the dark as they are in the light.  She does not find her solace in her plans, in what she can or will accomplish, but rather in walking in fellowship with the Father and Son today.  Being content to simply let His will be done, knowing it is so much better than hers.  Waiting, to see what He will do.  Willing, to be inconvenienced so that He might have His way on earth as it is in Heaven.

As her presence stretches out in me I find that she extends herself to those around me.  Petty irritations and sensibilities fall away, because I realize that the Father is at work in them as He is in me.  I know, they will not always be who they are, and my greatest desire transforms from wanting to make things happen, to watching Christ unfold them one petal at a time.

When I am impatient it mars – and scars – the work of grace.  Whether it is directed towards myself, or another eternal soul, my immaturity is akin to a child who “helps” a butterfly out of its cocoon or forces a flower to open her blooms.  For all the good intentions I stand there and hold the dying carnage in my hand with tears flowing that say, “I didn’t mean to!”

So…sweet sister…have patience…let her have her way and accomplish her perfect work so that we can grow up into a full maturity that sees and values what our Father does…so that we do not fail His grace or be found destitute or wanting at His coming.  Is He not worthy?