Patience

Do you know a synonym from the Bible for patience? How about long suffering? That pretty well defines patience for me--to suffer long. I fear I am not a patient man by nature.

I should be patient; I grew up in a very small town (it doesn't even qualify as a town; it is officially a village). If something was going to happen in my home town, you had to wait for it, and if you weren't careful, you missed it. And we did not have a store, a gas station, or, until I was a teenager, a soda machine. If you wanted anything, you had to wait to go to the town where I went to High School 12 miles away--which had 1,400 people. That was the happening place. K-Mart and a grocery store with more than 5 aisles was 30 miles distant. And I'm not ancient, people--we're talking the 80's and 90's!

Another reason I should be patient is my two older sisters. Their idea of fun at the end of the school year was to have me sit at a makeshift desk and play 'school.' They were also my transportation, when they were old enough to drive and I was not. Think I ever had to wait to go somewhere? Yah, maybe! And along the same lines, I have been outnumbered my entire life. I have two sisters, no brothers. I entered a profession (physical therapy) which is traditionally female dominated. I have two daughters, one son. That alone should have created a patient man; but it has not.

Or maybe it has. The past two weekends, I have traversed a pitch-black river 5 hours before daylight just to claim a desired hunting spot. What did we do for five hours? We waited. Patiently. Suffering long. My before-mentioned children--13, 9, and 6--have required some degree of patience. Have you ever watched 5-year olds play soccer? That is long suffering! I think youth soccer is partly God's answer to my prayers for patience. As they say, be careful what you pray for!

Now, my patience is being tested again. I have entered a bizarre netherworld know as Publishing. In this place, time is warped, if it exists at all. My oldest sister brought home from the Army the phrase, "Hurry up to wait." She said they had to run everywhere they went, only to wait once they got there. That's kind of how I feel now. I spent months, even years, staying up half the night (or more) to write, edit, rewrite, revise, rearrange, rewrite . . . you get the point . . . at fever pitch to be able to send a manuscript into this strange world of publishing. And now? I wait. Suffering. Long.

A strange thing, this patience. A strange thing indeed!