His Patience
Room to Grow
Patience is one of those virtues we admire in others and struggle to give ourselves.
We are patient with a slow-walking grandchild, a tired neighbor, a friend going through a hard season. But when it comes to ourselves — to the hands that no longer move as quickly, the memory that takes longer to find a word, the body that needs more rest than it used to — we can be far less kind. We push. We measure. We compare ourselves to who we used to be, and we are quietly hard on ourselves for not still being that person.
I sat with an older woman one afternoon — someone who had been part of our community for many years — and she shared something that has stayed with me ever since.
“Chaplain, can I tell you something?” she asked.
I nodded.
She paused, smiled gently, and added: “And that gives me permission to slow down. To be gentle with myself.”
There was such peace in the way she said it. Not resignation. Not giving up. Just the quiet, settled understanding that God is not in a rush — and that maybe, finally, she did not have to be either.
That is the patience Peter is speaking of in 2 Peter 3:9. Not a tired, reluctant patience that is barely holding on. A purposeful patience. A patience that waits with us — not because God is too far away to do anything, but because He knows that growth, healing, and trust take time. He is the gardener who tends carefully. He is the teacher who explains it again. He is the parent who waits at the end of the long, slow walk.
His Nearness is His Patience. God’s patience does not rush your healing. It does not push your grief along faster than you are ready to go. It does not demand that you have it all figured out by tomorrow. It walks with you at your own pace, in your own season — knowing that what He is shaping in you is worth every quiet day it takes.
If God is that patient with you, you have permission to be patient with yourself.
You do not have to fix everything today. You do not have to feel better, look stronger, or be wiser by the end of the week. You are a work in progress — and the One who is doing the work has all the time in the world to do it gently.
Today, soften your expectations. Slow your inner pace. And let the same patience God shows you become the patience you show yourself.
- The next time you catch yourself being hard on yourself — for being slow, forgetful, or not quite who you used to be — pause and say out loud: “God is patient with me. I can be patient with me too.” Let that one sentence change the tone of your day.
- For the Next Generation: Watch how the older people in your life have learned to live at a gentler pace. It is not a sign of weakness — it is a kind of wisdom the world rarely teaches. Ask them: “How did you learn to be patient with yourself?” Their answer may save you years of unnecessary self-criticism.
Sit quietly. Take a slow breath. And ask yourself one honest question:
Where have I been impatient with myself lately?
Now bring that to God. Not to fix it. Just to lay it down. Hear Him say, gently: I am not rushing you. I never have been.
Let one of these songs settle that truth into your heart:
- The Classic Hymn: Have Thine Own Way, Lord ↗
- The Contemporary Bridge: Trusting You In the Waiting↗
like a long, slow exhale.
May His timing guide your steps
when you are tempted to rush.
May His grace steady your heart
when you are tempted to be hard on yourself.
And may you rest today
in the quiet truth that you are a work in progress —
beautifully and patiently shaped by hands
that have never been in a hurry,
and never will be.
