Impatience

Alas, I experienced impatience this week.  Yes, even after writing the piece on the value of waiting, one afternoon I found myself unwilling to surrender to waiting. While I want to assure you that I did not yell, scream or storm out during this bout of impatience, its wave did cause the inevitable riptide in my life, and, of course, in the lives of those around me.  It took awhile for the effects to subside.  Cooking supper helped, as did drawing a simple pastel.  Yet, even after taking those steps, the effects of my impatience disturbed my sleep.  The next morning, I still had a sense of unease. That discomfort led me to call the person whose schedule had been disrupted and thus affected mine, and I asked for forgiveness.  We had a good talk, and we even were able to discuss a concern of hers. I am grateful for the nudge to pick up the phone.   

Expectations pave the rocky way for impatience. Impatient people often bring up the story of Jesus overturning the money-changers' tables as a sign that some (i.e. their own) impatience is a good thing.  They are probably right, but we do need to be careful.  As I thought about Jesus, I wondered what he had to say about patience, and my initial perusal in the Gospel did not come up with anything definitive.  However, what he did comment on was judging, and that led me to Matthew 7 where Jesus warns that before we try to take out the speck in our neighbor's eye, we need to tend to the log in our own.  Impatience leads us to believe that we are being let down because our treasured expectations are being thwarted.  When we are impatient, we do not see clearly.  Our ego blinds us. We become competitive.  We want and believe we deserve victory.   

I learned much during this recent bout of impatience, especially how healing reconciliation can be. I am writing this on September 11, and many prayers for peace will be lifted today.  However, peace can be achieved only when we recognize that we are all in this life together. This coming together over common ground is often not easy, but few humans are called to live outside of family, friends, and other communities. It is in these relationships where we find healing, but only if we can make room for one another's struggles as well as our growth. Despite our yearnings for "the perfect" family, school, work, faith, and other communities, we usually come together imperfectly. However, unless a relationship is deeply toxic, we can make some progress in our mutual healing if we make room for one another. That is the gift of the invitation to share communion. I am reminded of a stockbroker I met years ago.  He often would tell me that he was grateful that he "hated" his first wife so much that working long hours became his norm, and he was considered quite successful even if his marriage did not last.   However, it was not long before his arch-nemesis, his wife, was replaced with another: alcohol.  We cannot simply walk away from ourselves and expect to thrive. We need love - both the giving and the receiving.  That is our gift, our practice, and how we are sustained.