It is usually not until one loses one's temper that the desire for patience arises. I was angry as a teen. I couldn't tell if my insouciance was due to my mom or my dad, even the people around us. It seemed both had to do with things which I could not do, but the rationale never made sense.

I blew up one afternoon after returning ignominiously from Chicago and my failure at Bible School.

We had a youth retreat for the three years I was in high school in Peru, with all the missionary kids of our Wycliffe center. Everyone was so excited about going on an outing and getting away from the little village that our compound comprised. It wasn't large and most of the girls could never venture beyond the fence that demarked our boundaries because they were white in a latin world. If a group wanted to do to town for a movie, they could accompany them. I couldn't go to town for any reason except ice cream. My mom had a dark sense of temptation for anything related to Hollywood, which led to her restricthing my siblings and I to our center.

I blew up one afternoon after returning ignominiously from Chicago and my failure at Bible School. I wanted to go see a six gun genre film with Terence Hill of My Name is Nobody fame, a melodramatic Spaghetti wild western of a clownish gunfighter. The music track was silly, the directing was a display of the aburd set in a period when little but jeans, boots and repeating guns were a subculture of the period.

I've always loved the west, my view an aperture of Roy Rogers and his trained horse Trigger. But this afternoon, I was determined to see this Terence Hill blow up bad guys with alacrity and my sense of injustice further expanded with my mom's non reason for keeping us kids away from films in general. We were only allowed to watch Mood Science celluloids in church.

Having my driver's license and some money, I simply disappeared. After all, I was of college age and a bit independent (if you want to call a 50 cent an hour job in our communications building self sustaining!). I watched the film alone. Other than a thorougly forgettable plot, it awakened a passion for the process. Nothing would assuage my anger against my parents, though. I didn't even know how to start being patient, but patience was the very tool which would lead me to marry, have a family, begin friendships, and work with other people. Anger led me to a dark path which worried my peers and provoked the prayers of our missionaries.

Patience is not born of easy living, nor fast food. It isn't procured at all. It is the result of being humbled by adversity and with hard times repeated, teaches the longevity of a gentle spirit. The capacity to love bears the fruit of patience. A man and woman don't fall in love one day and go get married the next. Waiting on God for His timing has been the bane of Christians I know for decades. But patience leads to success, security, and best of all, God's best for us.

Lord, may our will be submitted to You this day and our lives show the fruit of what we pray. In Jesus name, amen