I Suck at Patience
Psalm 70
1 Make haste, O God, to deliver me!
O Lord, make haste to help me!
2 Let them be put to shame and confusion
who seek my life!
Let them be turned back and brought to dishonor
who delight in my hurt!
3 Let them turn back because of their shame
who say, “Aha, Aha!”4 May all who seek you
rejoice and be glad in you!
May those who love your salvation
say evermore, “God is great!”
5 But I am poor and needy;
hasten to me, O God!
You are my help and my deliverer;
O Lord, do not delay!
I have been turning a lot to the Psalms lately. I think I identify with the large emotions, the weeping, the bartering, the feelings of disappointment and abandonment. I’m really liking the short ones in particular; the ones I can fit in the gaps between the kids fighting, or the loads of laundry; the ones short enough to squeeze in before I lose my temper again (for probably the eighth time today).
The Psalms are a great comfort in times like these. They show us a beautiful picture of moving from a feeling that the world is not as it should be, to a trust in God. Most importantly, in my opinion, they show that the trust in God does not mean a diminishing of feeling scared and uncertain. Right now that resonates. I feel very disoriented, and that is coming out. I am realizing that I really suck at patience. I may be better than some but, oh my goodness, these last two weeks (has it really only been two weeks?!) have weighed my patience levels and I am sorely lacking. Is that a universal experience right now? I think everyone is experiencing their patience being tried and tested. Whether it be children, spouse, isolation, uncertainty about health or work and that is hard. I know that’s not eloquent or shockingly illuminating, but it is hard; so damn hard. The Psalms give me hope that God can handle hard stuff, he is more than capable of taking all screaming, temper tantrums, and waiting that we can throw at him.
How long, O Lord?
The quintessential question of the moment; How long? For this test result, the end of this shift, this surgery to be rescheduled, this school year to resume, this persistent anxiety to subside. How long will my savings last? How long will the gloves, and the masks, and the ICU beds last?
I don’t know.
I am left to cry out to God. And that is ok, and appropriate. He can take it. He can take all of my pain, and all of your pain. My worries, impatience, and frustrations and yours too. And somehow, there will be redemption and restoration. I would not be arrogant enough to claim that there will not also be great pain. One does not preclude the other. We are called to be a hopeful people, let us live in that hope. For now I cry out in my impatience, “…hasten to me, O God! You are my help and my deliverer; o Lord, do not delay!”