patience.

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the chestnut trees are in bloom, and it leaves me in awe. how could I have not seen this last April? why, when I walk these streets of spring, I wonder why have I forgotten everything that happened last year. why did it all slip into oblivion, especially all the beauty and gifts of this season. well, I remember. I was stuck in bed, in tears, taking 6 sleeping pills a day to escape the gnawing pain in my abdomen and heart. it hurt to be alive. I remember now.


remembering how it was like last spring, I remind myself of the absolute necessity of patience in this lifetime. how could I have endured without the ease that patience brings? the faith that it would change, that transformation is a prerequisite to all situations, no matter how permanent they seem. 


perhaps now that I am better, I realise how dissociated and disconnected I’ve been from my own body, all these years. there is no way that this pain resurfaced from nothing. it was building up slowly, and it was a weight I was carrying that I tried my best to ignore. yes, there were instances when I felt I was truly lying to myself. I felt sick in my heart that I was being patient for nothing at all, one year after the other emptying the soul out of me. but there were other blessings to keep me going. all this time I thought I was thriving, I was merely surviving.


I look at my heart now and feel immense gratitude for God’s guidance through it all. I could have turned diabolically bitter and filled with range. but there is still compassion, love and light in me. I see it now as I walk through the mesmerising greenery, captivated by it all. I see it when I find a book I’ve always wanted to read and bury my nose into it for hours. I see it when I’m with children, laughing around them and sharing their light-heartedness as much as I can.


oh, patience. you are truly treacherous. we never know we’re patient until we are through, on the other side of God’s lessons. sometimes, the fruit of patience is never revealed, but a light silently sparks in one’s heart, and we forget the ailment, we pass by the hurt and move on. we know we’ve been patient when we’ve sustained through the difficult times and finally arrive at a dawn we thought we’d never see. 


I still don’t know how to be patient in the in-between. I’d be honest and confess that I give up far too many times. I rely on my efforts and watch them crumble, disillusioning myself, believing that I’m getting there. in truth, it is God’s working. it is His subtle mercy on our souls.


and so, all I can say is that it would do good to us to contemplate patience as much as we can. delve into its meaning, so that we can find it when we truly need it.

going with grace in an inscrutable world.

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