“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved,
clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”
I looked at my watch for the umpteenth time, hoping to hurry the train to the station. But the train was having none of my impatience. It lumbered slowly from its last stop to where I was waiting.
“Why the rush?” God asked me.
“I’m not in a rush,” I said, not wanting to talk. I had things on my mind.
“Clock time isn’t my time, you know,” God said. “You created that to measure units of your life. An hour here. A day there. You rush about trying to make things happen in those units, instead of living in the fullness of time.”
“What’s the fullness of time?” I asked.
“It is where you are patient,” God explained. “Patience allows you to enter the truth of life: the pain, confusion, sorrow, or joy. Impatience, on the other hand, is about getting away from things that are uncomfortable. You can’t embrace someone else’s pain if you can’t stay to feel your own. Patience is what allows you to be united with others in compassion. In that unity, you experience my grace.”
My train arrived and I boarded. I sat at a window seat and watched the scenery pass by as we pulled away from the station. I realized that time wasn’t like the scenery. It wasn’t rushing by me. It was standing still, right here with me. I could practice patience. I could stay with that which is uncomfortable inside of myself so that I could be with others in their pain.
I took off my watch and put it into my purse so that I wasn’t tempted to measure my life by clock time, but instead, measure it by the fullness of time—God’s grace.