Patience and Prayer

Last week, I had conversations with my son’s teacher, my mother, my sister, a good friend, and three other teacher friends in which I’ve begged the same questions, “How long will Justice struggle with this?! Will it ever get better? Will it ever get easier? How many more ways are there for me to help, encourage, discipline, and motivate him?” I had reached the end of my rope. My son’s behavior at home and struggles in school had compounded and I was exhausted. I was a broken record, doling out the same lessons, same reminders, same cautionary tales, same consequences, and same exasperated pleas to him that I’d been since he was in pre-school. Everyone’s reassured me he will mature and these things take patience and prayer. I was told, “You’re doing the right thing by staying consistent, ” or “My pastor slapped his kindergarten teacher across the face and was on probation and in juvenile hall. And now he’s an incredible man of God.” Even my husband assured me that he struggled in school with all the same afflictions as Justice and well, he turned out to be a pastor (and a darn good one at that), so not to worry. But still, I am anxious for this very LONG season of struggle to be over. I’m ready to skip to the good part, where I see the fruits of my labor and all our hard work as parents pay off. In short, I’m impatient.

I was reminded today of the saying, “You reap what you sow,” and I thought of all the lessons I’ve worked tirelessly to sow in the heart of my son over the last seven years. Any farmer will tell you that sowing the seeds is painstaking work, but waiting for the reaping can be long and brutal. This is the season I’m in. It is long and it is brutal. Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” We WILL reap a harvest IF we do NOT give up. This is my new mantra.

Years ago while on a mission trip, I heard a cute little number called Have Patience. We often sang it over someone who was struggling with the long wait in line for food, the showers, or at the border crossing. It was so catchy that it stuck with me long into adulthood and I’ve been singing it over my children now for years. (My children have also been known to sing it over me when I’m running low on patience. It’s not nearly as catchy or cute then.) I do love the song though, and for the purpose of this blog post on patience, I thought I’d apply it to this area of parenting in which my patience has been particularly thin lately.

“Have patience, have patience, don’t be in such a hurry. When you get impatient, you only start to worry,” the song begins. Impatience leads to worry, anxiety, and stress. I can tell you I have worried A LOT this week. I’ve had visions of Justice calling me from jail, wrecking his car, unable to hold down a job, getting expelled from school, failing his midterms, or choosing Murray’s House of Learning over a college education. (Murray’s House of Learning isn’t a real place…I don’t think.) Because these are logical outcomes for a seven-year-old who struggles with apathy, dishonesty, and irresponsibility. They’re not, of course, but when I grow weary of the fight and restless for him to make good choices, my brain quickly moves from concerned to unreasonably anxious and there’s really no in-between. Before logging on to my parent-teacher conference with Justice’s second-grade teacher, I was already on the verge of tears. My impatience with his maturity, understanding, and heart changes have turned me into an emotionally fragile hot mess of a mother. Romans 12:12 says, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” Patience and prayer. These are the antidotes for my worrisome heart. It’s possible to find joy in hope by choosing to fixate on all the positive potential my son has, rather than all the negative. Instead of imagining him rubbing elbows with a cellmate, what if I imagined him surrounded by a community of faithful, God-loving friends? I can turn my worries about the worst outcome into prayers for the best outcome.

“Remember, remember, that God is patient too,” continues the song. I’ve heard it said that often the qualities we dislike most in our children are the qualities we dislike most in ourselves. Oiy. Try not to think too long and hard on that one; it’s painfully convicting. I know because I’ve sat in this hard truth many times lately. Justice struggles with dishonesty, laziness, self-control, and being easily distracted. Guess what? I do too. Yet how many times has God shown me mercy, knowing full well I’ll be right back there tomorrow? 2 Peter 3:9-10 says, “But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” My son has gotten really good at apologizing, so good in fact that he’s convinced his apology should negate any consequence that follows. He’s yet to understand that apologizing and repenting are two different things. One is acknowledging you’ve done wrong, while the other is changing your heart and your behavior so as not to do wrong again. Repentance is far more difficult than apologizing, and it takes a great deal more time. God knows this. He also knows that repentance, not merely apologies, is the key to salvation. God wants everyone to be saved, and so He is patient with us, giving us all the time we need to make a heart change. I am so grateful He doesn’t rush me or scold me with a, What took you so long? when I finally repent. He is unfailingly gracious towards me. I would do well to remember this when I am in the throes of disciplining Justice for what feels like the tenth time on any given day.

“So think of all the times when others had to wait for you,” concludes the song. Okay, I’ll say it: I was a difficult child. I had a habitual lying problem, I was an attention-seeker (of both good and bad), a complete narcissist, loaded with pride, and a master manipulator. (Well, at least in my head I was a master. Come to find out I wasn’t nearly as good as I thought.) I tested my parents in every way I knew how, well into my early adulthood. So how did I turn out so fabulous? (I’m still working on the pride thing, okay?) I am a direct result of my parents’ patience and prayer. I stand here today as a woman who loves God. I am in a happy marriage grounded in Christ. I use my gifts to minister to others. I am raising my children in the Word and in the church. I am living proof that true repentance can change the trajectory of your life, and that like so many other things in life, it takes time. I am beyond grateful for the prayers my parents spoke over me every day. I am floored by the unfathomable patience they showed as they watched me stumble over and over again. I am certain they wrung their hands in exasperation and cried tears of hopelessness many nights, just as I have done for Justice. My parents lovingly waited for me to grow in wisdom and understanding. They remained steadfast as they waited for me to turn my heart away from temptation and back toward God. When I finally figured things out and fell before them in repentance, they didn’t admonish me, they forgave me. Now that I’m a parent, I will do the same.

Patience and prayer. These two simple words will have an eternal impact on the hearts of my children if I only commit to them. We WILL reap a harvest IF we do NOT give up. Repentance takes time, as do all good things that come to those who wait.