Lesson in Patience

In the previous chapter of the Gospel of Luke, Jesus gave a warning about His Second Coming and the desperate times that would accompany that great event. Now He begins the next set of instructions to His disciples with these words:

And he spake a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint;
--Luke 18:1

The parable that followed this pronouncement about praying always concerns a bereft widow and an unjust judge. Though the town judge initially paid no attention to the importuning widow, because she continued to pester him, the judge finally acceded to her request for help. Jesus concludes this parable with the promise the God will hear us, "though he bear long with" us, meaning that we may have to be patient until the Lord sees fit to answer us in His own due time.

Returning to Jesus's introduction to the parable, to "not faint" is to not lose heart. God hears all prayers, but He answers in His own due time. When answers don't come quickly or easily, we may think God isn't listening or He doesn't care. Such is not the case. God always hears, always cares, and always answers. His answers, however, are always calculated for our maximum benefit. Despite what we may want, God knows what we truly need. He gives us what we need, which may not be what we want. Sometimes the most important thing we need, amidst all our wants, is a lesson in patience.

For most of my life, I have been quite adept at instructing God in how He should run His universe and the timing of the blessings I think I need in my life and in the lives of others. I tell Him who to heal and when to heal them, who to strengthen and how He should strengthen them, whose burdens He should lift and how He should lift them. I have approached God like my personal vending machine of blessings, dropped in my coins of prayer and faith, pushed the buttons, and expected instant gratification. 

Has God heard all my selfish, self-centered, impatient prayers? Absolutely. Does He love me? Positively. Does He want me to have a good life? Most assuredly. But He is also wise enough to withhold the blessings I want and dispense the blessings I need. He is patient enough to let me learn His purposes despite my frantic desires to have Him right every wrong and heal every illness and remove every burden. 

I has taken me many years, but I have stopped, for the most part, trying to instruct God in how I want Him to fix the world and have instead offered to listen to what He wants for me, to bear up the burdens He wants me to carry, to deal with the obstacles He allows to obstruct my easy path, to serve those on whom He has chosen to allow afflictions to linger, and to wait patiently with an eye of faith for the things I truly need. God's goodness is not in a comfortable life with no drama, no problems, and no stress, but in permitting all the trials that will enable me to come to the Savior with a broken heart and contrite spirit. My purpose in this earthly life is not to be comfortable on a calm sea, but to the strong in the midst of the storms that blow my vessel towards the promised land of salvation and exaltation.

Open the Universe

Jesus taught this amazing principle and promise about prayer in the Sermon on the Mount:

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
--Matthew 7:7-8

With this promise echoing in my mind, I know everything of God's is available to me. It's up to me, though, to take the first step. I must ask, seek, and knock. I must learn how to approach the Father, trust Him, listen to Him, have faith in Him, and accept His will. 

Sounds easy, right? Well, it's not so easy when God doesn't seem approachable in the middle of a hard day or a sleepless night, when worry is overpowering and pain is unrelenting. It can be hard to trust a Father who allows suffering and sorrow, who apparently wants to polish me with 100-grit sandpaper. His voice, if He is speaking at all, can hardly penetrate my thick skull and ears tuned more to the world's shouts for attention than to the gossamer whispers of the Holy Spirit. Faith - the anchor of the soul - threatens to break loose in the storms that spring up like winter gales and beat on me with no care for my stamina or energy. And the divine Will runs so counter to my earthly logic that it boggles me.  

As the pounding and pummeling of life continues, driving me to my knees when standing gets too hard, I think of the joke, "The beatings will continue until morale improves." I wonder, is that what God is doing to me? Is He beating me until I finally learn to believe His promise?

I believe He hears every prayer, even my casual, mundane daily invocations. But while I may be satisfied with vain repetitions, He is not. He wants more from me, and so He gives me more - more trials, more challenges, more troubles, more afflictions, more pain, more suffering - more of everything that strips me of my expectations of life and leaves me raw and vulnerable and, dare I say, humble. And when I finally cry in genuine need, in total despair - in honest prayer - He answers. He sends the Comforter. He gives strength where there was none. He fans an ember of hope that was all but dead. Another day dawns, and life goes on. And I'm still here.

If I can ever quit trying to do things my way and let Him do things His way, the universe will open to me.