I know the cashier at the Hobby Lobby checkout thought my purchase of a large painted wooden word that read "Patience" was for me. There I stood, juggling a fussy tired baby while trying to corral three more small people all of whom call me "Mama."
"Can we have M&Ms?" "Mama, can we get a little tape measure?" "What about bubbles? Can we have bubbles?" "Hey, Mama, do we need more gluesticks? What about more tape?"
That last question came from my young son who uses tape to paper my walls with drawings, magazine subscription cards, self-stick notes (that concept is lost on him), and all other manner of ephemera. He burns through a roll of tape every three days or so, and has finally forced me to start locking up a roll for my own use.
I didn't have the energy to explain to the young woman behind the counter that I'd found my own Patience several months earlier.
This new Patience was for my friend Lisa who, as the mother of four children of her own, both epitomizes and wants more self-control. Her oldest three are boys with their attendant noise, high activity levels, and their constant struggle for self-determination while still too young to fully understand what that means.
Lisa, if you read this before I deliver your infusion of Patience, just pretend you don't know it's coming and act surprised, okay?
Anyway, I found my own Patience at Hobby Lobby back in early February after a harrowing seven months of new baby, new baby with physical challenge, senior mom with physical challenge and senior mom in hospital. To say I was feeling spread pretty thin is to grossly simplify my circumstance.
Somewhere between worrying about the baby, driving to visit my mom who was incarcerated at the local medical center, and keeping up with my other children's schooling, I resorted to reciting the first lines of the famous "Serenity Prayer" at the oddest times. You know the prayer, the one that starts, "Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
I spoke that prayer aloud while pumping gas one day. Another time it escaped my lips as I was standing in a long line with my children to buy groceries and one of them informed me she needed to use the potty "NOW!" It even ran through my head in the middle of night as I guess I lay half asleep and half awake pondering the coming day and the harrowing routine it would bring.
My artsy craftsy daughter finally relieved me of the habit of startling strangers with my "Grant me the serenity" line. She wanted to make puppets using wooden spoons (thanks Usborne Books) so we had to go to Hobby Lobby to get the supplies. On our way to check out I spotted it -- PATIENCE. It sat atop a shelf loaded with all manner of claptrap made in China by indentured servants, and it was so big, so bold, it almost spoke to me.
"I need patience," I said to my children, "and if I can't come by it naturally then I'm gonna buy it."
Every time I walk into my kitchen my eyes are drawn to the top edge of the cabinets above the counter where "Patience" sits looking out over our comings and goings to remind me that it is an essential element of mothering, friendship, and self-respect.
My friend Lisa has admired it on more than one occasion so, for her, I bought a duplicate. I hope it will inspire her and remind her to take one more deep breath before responding to whatever unpleasantness may be confronting her.
A woman named Mary Baker Eddy, the author of my church's denominational textbook, writes, "What we most need is the prayer of fervent desire for growth in grace, expressed in patience, meekness, love, and good deeds. To keep the commandments of our Master (Jesus Christ)and follow his example is our proper debt to him and the only worthy evidence of our gratitude for all that he has done."
Patience. Whether we buy it in a store or receive it supernaturally, it's vital to have if we want to claim our heritage as children of God.
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