I sprang out of bed like I’d been shot from a cannon. All at once I was in motion, buttoning my shirt, putting on my coat, and hopping down the hall on one foot as I tried to slip on my shoes. There were things I had to do today. Important things. I needed to get to them.
“Sparrow, where are you going in such a hurry?” God asked as I bolted out of the door.
“I’ve got so much to do today, God,” I answered a bit breathless.
“But you’re missing out on the fullness of your life by rushing to get to the future,” God said.
“I know, but I don’t have the time today,” I argued. “I can’t wait around.”
“You have all the time that I’ve given you,” God insisted. “Slow down. Patience isn’t about passively waiting for something to happen. Patience is about being here now, fully present to what is.”
I pondered His words. “You’re right. I’m living as if what I need to do in the future is more important than my life at this moment,” I said.
“Take a look around you, Enjoy the gifts I’ve given you today,” God said. I stopped walking. I stood and saw the birds at the feeder. I heard the sound of the wind through the trees. I smelled the lingering woodsmoke from last night’s fire.
“That’s better,” God said, and He put His arms around me and gave me a gentle hug—which I’d have missed had I not practiced some patience.