Patience is like ballet. It appears with such elegance, dripping like honey across our bodies, developing into a full and bodily art. Beautiful. Grace. Wonder. What we desire. Yet the art itself is excruciating to create--pain seeps into the inside ankle muscles, makes the lower back sore for days. Patience. Patience too, is painful. We hurt so good to see it complete in us, to long for the Lord's work which battles within-- our quick, impulsive selves driven by society drawing our flesh in reverberations against our soul.
But I continue to wait upon the Lord. Because I refuse to settle for a Saul (1 Samuel 15). No, I wait upon the Lord, suffer through the tight pull of tangible flesh against the things above, spiritual, which draw me towards the everlasting.
I choose to obey. I choose to let the Lord have His way. Jehovah.